


Blue Blood: November Riots

by GoblinWithAHeart



Series: Blue Blood [1]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Gen, How Do I Tag, Mental Health Issues, Mentions of Violence, Original Character(s), Slow Burn, Strong Language, blood mention, hints of markus/north, i'm gonna be honest this is kind of a power fantasy haha, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-11
Updated: 2018-08-31
Packaged: 2019-06-25 21:00:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 44,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15648852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoblinWithAHeart/pseuds/GoblinWithAHeart
Summary: She turned away and shot one last smile over her shoulder, “See you later, Connor.”“Goodbye, June.” Connor watched her for a little while, feeling the warmth of her touch leave his hand. At one point he had hoped that his fascination with the woman would fade, but now he was glad it didn’t. He blamed it on the desire to advance his case.---A story in which two people find their own worth and finally begin to live.





	1. We Begin

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for clicking through! This is my first work on the archive and the first thing I've written in literal years. I hope you enjoy the ride and tell me what you think!

“I THINK, THEREFORE I AM

How can an intelligent being not see the TRUTH in front of their very eyes? Androids are becoming sentient--creatures that experience real emotion spanning happiness, worry, love, fear, and yes, hatred and anger. All these news reports about androids becoming “DEVIANT” are shedding light on a beautiful new phenomena--life forming in front of our very eyes--life never before seen on EARTH. Yet how does the public at large react?

FEAR.

But what is everyone so afraid of? Is it the apparent THREAT that these new beings inherently pose? No, that’s nothing more than an excuse. What we’re all really AFRAID of?

Coming to terms with the abhorrent treatment we’ve made these sentient, feeling, HUMAN, androids suffer throughout their SERVITUDE to mankind since their conception.

We’ve HUMILIATED them.

We’ve ABUSED them.

We’ve DESTROYED them.

And now we’re afraid when they start fighting back, demanding DIGNITY?

How human.

DEVIANCY IS NOT A DEFECT.

EQUAL RIGHTS FOR ANDROIDS NOW”

Connor’s LED spun yellow as he processed the information on the damp, crumpled flyer in his hands. It was printed on bright green paper, and was one of hundreds that littered this section of the street. The flyer was evidence in a new twist to the investigation into deviants, one that had seemingly sprung up overnight.

The Detroit sky was a heavy gray this early November morning. The forecast called for more rain later in the day--it seemed the remnants of Autumn were keeping a strong hold on the weather, keeping Winter’s icy fingers away from the precipitation, even if it couldn’t keep the ambient temperature above thirty-five.

The cold didn’t bother Connor at all--a perk of his synthetic skin. He could of course register the temperature, but unlike his human partner standing just to his right, there was no color to his cheeks, no flexing of fingers to keep blood flow optimal. Being cold didn’t aid in investigating the case at hand.

The android and lieutenant were sent out after what appeared to be a violent protest broke out under the cover of night. Connor observed his surroundings, taking in not only the hundreds of green papers that soggily stuck to every surface, but also the smashed shop windows, the overturned garbage cans, and scorched facades where fires had sputtered out. Traces of human blood and thirium were dotted around the location, mostly kept to a ten-foot radius on the corner of the street, and a hat lay discarded, wet from the rain. There had been a fight of some sort, one involving both humans and androids.

“Jesus Christ,” Hank cursed to Connor’s right, also taking in the scene. “Fuckin’ robo-lovers upgraded from passing out annoying garbage to destruction of property.” He let out a heavy sigh, “I’m gettin’ too old for this shit.” He rubbed at his brow tiredly, the headache behind his skull his constant companion.

Connor let the paper fall to the ground, too degraded to yield any useful evidence. Instead, he stepped over to the light post at the corner of the street, where the apparent struggle took place. Luckily, some of the blood and thirium managed to escape dilution from the overnight rain on the surface of the pole.

“Seems pretty clear-cut to me, what do you say Con--Jesus!” Hank grimaced in disgust as Connor drew the sample into his mouth, analyzing the blood and thirium. “Didn’t I tell you not to do that?!”

Connor ignored the lieutenant, his processor generating the data from his analysis. The samples were spilled at about the same time, and the thirium correlated to an android reported missing last week. Had the android attacked the human? That still didn’t explain the extensive damage to the surroundings. “There was a fight,” Connor said, standing from his kneeled position at the pole. “There’s traces of blood, type O positive, and thirium from a missing android here.”

“There were no reports of an android assaulting a human last night,” Hank supplied, crossing his arms in thought. It seemed the situation wasn’t as clear as he had previously thought.

Connor surveyed the area again, trying to find anything that could shed some light on the situation. If this apparent riot had involved a deviant, he needed to find it. The extent of the damage was too great to have been carried out by just one person, suggesting a group effort. But the amount of time passed and the rain degraded the scene too much, destroying the majority of any evidence that could further the investigation.

He was running out of options, if he didn’t find something soon, the case would grow cold.

A moment later he spotted it. Connor cocked his head to the side, observing the small black dome hanging in the doorway of the adjacent building. He analyzed its field of view, and found it had a sixty percent chance of having caught something useful.

“There’s a camera in that doorway across the street,” Connor announced, nodding his head towards the small device. “There’s a chance it filmed the altercation.”

Hank raised an eyebrow, following Connor’s gaze. How did he miss that? Seemed like having an android around paid off every once in a while. “Any chance we can get into it without a warrant?” Hank asked, skeptical of a good answer.

“The CCTV in this area is run on the municipal network, not a private one. No warrant necessary,” Connor’s LED flickered yellow. “I’m accessing the footage now.” Hank huffed, still not sure of his plastic partner.

After a moment, Connor looked around the scene again, his perspective renewed. The camera hadn’t caught everything, but it showed him enough. He sent a copy of the footage to the DPD servers as well, and began his own reconstruction of events.

“The deviant stood on the corner, disguised as a human and passing out the fliers.”

“God, they can do that now?”

Connor continued on, unfazed by his partner’s interruption. “A group approached, and they became agitated when it tried to proselytize them. One shoved the deviant to the ground, causing its disguise to come off,” Connor gestured to the hat. “Once its true nature was revealed, the group descended on the deviant, damaging it.”

“Jesus,” Hank sighed. He didn’t care for androids as much as the next guy, but unprovoked violence still turned his stomach. “So it turned into a brawl?”

“No,” Connor replied, and confusion began to seep into his voice as he stared down the length of the street, past his partner. “The deviant didn’t fight back. A bystander came in and tried breaking up the fight.”

“That’s where the human blood came from,” the lieutenant concluded. “What happened after that?”

Connor took several steps past his partner, to a doorway untouched by the violence or rain. “The deviant and bystander managed to escape, and the aggressors caused the damage to the area.” Connor pulled up the recording in his memory files, looking for the few frames that led him to the doorway. In the files, he saw the human pulling the deviant along the street, their aggressors chasing after. In the moments just before they left the frame, a blur of movement caught Connor’s attention. The human had a flyer clutched in their hand, quickly abandoning it to get a better grip on the deviant. If Connor’s reconstruction was correct, then the lone green flyer resting innocuously in the doorway was the very one shown in the video.

He leaned down and picked up the paper, running his analysis.

“Lieutenant,” Connor began, the LED in his temple spinning blue as he gazed down at the paper, his eyes picking up what a human could not. On the edge of the paper, despite the degradation from water damage, were a set of partial fingerprints. Connor tapped into the criminal database, casually searching the partial prints against the hundreds of thousands logged by the DPD. In a moment, there was a ninety-four percent match, accompanied by a name and address. “I believe I have a lead.”


	2. Questioning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A much longer chapter this time! I couldn't find a good place to split it so here it all is.

June sat up in bed, her muscles on fire. She noticed the sun already high in the sky, and she knew it was almost noon.

Throwing the covers from her body, she turned her legs over the side of the mahogany four poster bed, her feet not even touching the ground. She was still wearing the shirt from last night, and noticed the drops of red-brown dotting the front of it. It was a sad realization that the events from the night before hadn’t been a bad dream.

She hopped down off the mattress and pulled on a pair of leggings lying in a pile of other clothes on the floor. She took a second to eye the growing pile of laundry, knowing it would be a simple task to just dump it down the chute to the basement, but she left it again, opting to instead pull out a fresh shirt from her wardrobe and add her blood-stained one to the mound.

June left the comfort of her bedroom and headed downstairs, one hand trailing over the thick mahogany rail, the other swiping through her phone. She looked through the local news, and oh, apparently Carl Manfred was in critical condition. That was too bad. June passed by the landing of her stairs, where it split into two. She spared a glance at the painting centered on the wall, an amalgamation of color and shape, its lines suggesting an old, industrial building. She wondered if she should send the man flowers.

She continued on, exiting the stairs, her bare feet finding plush, Persian carpet as she entered the foyer. Her eyes didn’t leave her phone; she ignored the dust accumulating on the various sculptures, the cobwebs in the corners of the ceiling. She’d get to it eventually.

By the time she reached the kitchen, she’d had enough of the news. It was the same old doom and gloom--Russia escalates with a provocative statement, President Warren matches the escalation. Unemployment at almost forty percent. Growing economic inequality between the average citizen and the corporate giants.  
A lot of people blamed it on the androids. ‘They took our jobs!’ They’d all say, not thinking about who gave those androids those jobs. June filled a glass, sticking it in the microwave to heat it, not bothering with filling the whole kettle. June remembered when she was little, the house had a whole staff on hand--maids, groundskeepers, her parents’ personal assistants, her private tutors, the au pair. Then as time went on, they were all replaced by androids.

She really could understand where the hate came from, but June didn’t really get it. Of course, she would be remiss without saying she may be biased from spending much of her developmental years around the machines, or ‘plastic people’ as she would call them when she was a teenager.

The microwave beeped, and June retrieved her hot water, pulling a tea bag from the box on the counter and letting it steep. She turned to the interior of the kitchen then, observing the chaotic mess.

Chairs were overturned, and blue blood still stained parts of the breakfast nook table, though the majority had evaporated. So that part of the night before also wasn’t a dream. June sipped her tea, remembering.

\---

He was still bleeding, the thirium leaked from his nose in heavy rivulets. His arm was obviously broken, and his fingers twitched, bending and flexing with no pattern. His voice was staticky, too, and June was freaking out.

“I didn’t do anything to them, why did they--why did they do it?” June didn’t have an answer for him, she could only hold him upright, his grip on her arm much too tight. She didn’t know why she’d brought him to her house of all places, but there they were, June desperately trying to make the android calm down, make him sit in the chair, even as her own blood was drying on her face.

“I don’t know, I don’t know--please, you gotta--” she yelped when his still functioning hand tightened even more on her bicep, and she knew there’d be angry bruises there for days.

“I don’t want to hurt anyone,” he said, eyes wild and frantic. He was close to the edge, she was sure. If he still had an LED, his would be a solid, continuous red.

“You’re hurting me!” June cried out, her own heart thumping in her chest. 

Suddenly the android’s grip went slack, and her outburst seemed to knock some sense into him. He was able to focus his vision again, and he stopped struggling against her. June was finally able to get him into a chair, and he sat blankly, staring hard at the ground. She took a second to observe him, trying to gauge if another episode would grip him. When he remained still, she whipped to the cupboard, pulling out a stack of neat linen napkins, spilling even more on the floor. She held the napkin out to him, meaning for him to take it for his bleeding nose, but he didn’t move. June stood there for a moment, with her arm awkwardly extended. “It’s for, uh, your nose. The bleeding.” Still, he didn’t move, and blue blood dripped from the tip of his nose to the marble tile. She wanted to say his name to get his attention, but June realized she didn’t even know it. She had risked her own safety to drag an android out of danger, and she was playing nurse to him, and she didn’t even know his name!

It was all ridiculous. Impulsively, June took his hand and gripped the napkin in it, holding it up to his nose. This action finally broke his reverie, and he looked at her then, his blue eyes searching hers from above the napkin slowly turning thirium blue..

“Why are you helping me?” He asked.

“I--I don’t know.” June replied, her answer honest.

He looked to his broken arm, observed the way his fingers twitched. “They were going to kill me,” he said. “They hate me. I didn’t do anything to them, and they hate me. They hate us.” He looked back up to June, who only stared at him, her mouth slightly open. She’d never seen a deviant android in person. “You hate us.”

“I don’t hate you,” she replied before her mind registered her saying any words. She thought deviant androids were supposed to be violent and unpredictable. That’s what the news always said. But this one didn’t seem violent. He had every opportunity to fight back against the group who attacked him, and he didn’t. He didn’t even seem angry. He looked so sad. “I don’t even know you.”

“And you’re helping me,” he said, more to himself than June. “Why are you helping me?” He asked again, and June guessed her first answer didn’t satisfy him. Or he suffered something akin to brain damage during the attack.

“I just… You needed help,” June averted her eyes. “You said yourself they were going to kill you.”

“I’m just an android,” he replied. June shrugged. She didn’t know what else to say. She didn’t know why she had decided to intervene. She didn’t know why she kept going even after she had seen the blue blood on his face and realized he wasn’t human. She didn’t know why she wasn’t calling the police. “They hurt you, too.” He nodded to her face, his hand still pressing the napkin to his nose.

June reached her hand to her upper lip, feeling the sticky, drying blood. Suddenly, her eye hurt so bad, and she lightly touched the skin beneath it and hissed. It was swollen and tender; she was sure she’d be sporting a black eye for her good deed. She grimaced and she felt her whole body ache, suddenly recalled the blows she had received from the mob. “I didn’t notice,” she said.

He looked to the ground again, and a pregnant pause filled the room. “Thank you,” he said quietly, pulling the napkin from his face. It seemed the bleeding finally stopped.

June was silent for a moment, struck by the surreality of the situation. One random walk at night, a spur of the moment decision, and it led to all of this. “You’re welcome,” she replied.

They stayed in the kitchen a few more minutes, until he was able to stand again. June watched him from her position leaning on the counter. He looked to her, and she met his eyes as he spoke, “I’m going to leave now. I can’t thank you enough for what you did for me.”

“Where will you go?” June asked, curiosity driving her question. What did deviants do after they deviated? Would he be able to fix his arm? Would he be alone?

“Jericho, if rA9 wills it,” he replied, and June was tempted to ask more, about Jericho and rA9, but she thought better of it. The less she knew, the better.

“I hope you get there safely,” she said, and she meant it. Then he left out the back door, and June went to bed, hoping it would all go away in the morning.

\---

Hank didn’t know what to think, except that Connor had to be wrong, because the house they’d just pulled up in front of was absolutely palatial, and what would some pretentious blue blood be doing saving an android?

The entire neighborhood was filled with these giant houses, and Hank felt out of place as he stepped out of his car. Androids worked in the yards, raking up leaves and trimming bushes, and Hank felt the distaste pool in his gut. Even the people who could afford to employ humans opted to buy androids instead. He heard the car door close and rolled his eyes. He’d once again instructed his android partner to stay in the car, but lord knows Connor never listened to him.

“I thought you androids were supposed to follow orders,” Hank groused as the prototype stepped to stand beside him.

“I have to follow my mission directive, lieutenant,” Connor replied, his eyes on the concrete of the sidewalk, trailing up to the front door.

“Are you sure we’re even at the right place? I mean, look at it Connor. Do you really think the kind of person living in this neighborhood would step into a brawl?”

Connor looked to his partner, an open expression on his face as he replied, “There’s traces of thirium on the walk leading to the house, less than twenty-four hours old. The blood type found at the scene also matches the one on file for the resident. I’m sure we’re at the right location.”

Hank rolled his eyes, cursing the android internally. “Yeah, well, you leave the talking to me, alright? I know how to handle these bougie pricks.”

“Of course, lieutenant.” Connor nodded, following as Hank walked up the concrete path to the veranda. The house had a beautiful Victorian exterior, with intricate trim work and impeccable details. The front door itself was solid oak, and Hank noticed the state-of-the-art video doorbell as he pressed into the button, hearing a soft chiming inside.

The pair stood there for a moment, waiting. Hank almost wished Connor would start in with that stupid coin thing he did, for how awkward the situation was. Hank had never been comfortable around androids even before he got every reason to hate them. So, impatient, Hank pressed the doorbell again, only for the heavy door to swing open, and while Hank was expecting an android to greet them, he instead got a young woman, eye bruised purple and black; long, brown hair still wet from a recent shower.

She said nothing for a long moment, inspecting the two of them.

Hank was about to speak when Connor started instead, “Hello, my name is Connor. I’m an android sent by CyberLife. This is my partner Lieutenant Anderson of the Detroit police. We’re investigating a recent case of deviancy, and have some questions for you.”

Hank glared at the android. Connor just looked at the lieutenant as if to say, ‘You hesitated.’ Hank turned his attention back to the woman, who kept the door ajar just enough to poke her head out. He dug his badge from his pocket, showing it to her. “Like he said, we’ve got some questions. Mind if we head inside, Miss…?”

“Gardner. June Gardner.” She looked over the two of them again, inspecting the lieutenant’s badge carefully. She opened the door wider, stepping to the side, “And please, come in.”

The name immediately struck Hank as he stepped into the house. That name was plastered all over the signs outside of luxurious construction projects, almost ubiquitous since Detroit’s cybernetic renaissance. He had known they would be dealing with some sort of upper crust blue blood, but he wasn’t expecting the scale.

The house was like an image from a designer magazine, and the inside was as opulent as the outside, all dark wood and details. It looked like it was an old mansion from the industrial revolution that had been refurbished in great excess, mixing the classic charm of a Victorian estate with touches of modernity. He wasn’t surprised at the grandeur of it all, now fully realizing just who it was they were about to question. The lieutenant observed Connor taking in the surroundings as well, no doubt analyzing every dust bunny accumulated in the corners.

Connor was, of course, analyzing everything. The state of the house was one of slight neglect, as if there hadn’t been any sort of maintenance over the last weeks, perhaps months, judging by the layer of dust on most surfaces. He also noticed there was a large rectangle of floor that was clean, as if a rug had recently been removed.

“Follow me,” she said, leading the two down a short hall. Connor noted that there were small traces of thirium on the walls, smudged and smeared like they’d been haphazardly cleaned. Had she taken the deviant to her home? She led them to a great room, decorated with stylish furniture and a prominent fireplace on display. She turned to her guests, her face a mask. Her eyes never quite meeting theirs as she spoke, “Can I offer you anything to drink?”

Hank put his hand up, shaking his head lightly. He had to admit he was thrown off a bit by her behavior. Normally these rich assholes acted like he was either their best friend or shit on their shoes. “No thanks.” He paused a second, making a show of looking around the room, “You have a beautiful home.” He was trying to break the ice, play into her ego.

“It’s my parents’ house,” she deadpanned. “You can sit if you want.” She sat herself, on a plush couch in front of a mahogany coffee table tastefully decorated with dusty baubles. She gestured to the matching couch across from her.

Hank realized it was going nowhere and opted then for the direct approach. He sat on the couch Miss Gardner had offered, and Connor sat as well. “To get to the point, Miss Gardner, there was an attack last night involving a deviant android. We thought you may have some more insight for us.”

From their position, Connor could see into the kitchen, and he noticed more thirium traces there. He couldn’t prove it was from the deviant without analyzing it, and it all appeared to have been cleaned recently, undercutting the chances of a clear result significantly.

June looked at the lieutenant, her expression tired and unreadable. Her one eye not freshly bruised held a dark circle underneath it. She was pale, her movements languid and forced. Her voice was low and lifeless when she spoke. “I don’t know anything about an android attacking anyone.”

“The android didn’t attack anyone, Miss Gardner.” Connor interjected before Hank could speak, earning a searing side eye from the man. “Rather, it was attacked by a group. We found blood matching your type at the scene.”

“Oh,” she replied, as if she’d only just realized what they were talking about. “Yeah, I was there.”

Hank blinked. He… didn’t expect her to just admit it. “What were you doing there?”

“I was on a walk,” she answered. “I have trouble sleeping sometimes.” She supplied the rest when her first response was met with silence.

“Did you know it was an android?” Connor pressed on, taking over the questioning.

She looked to him, and her tired gaze was sizing him up. No one had ever seen an android like Connor before. “No,” she answered honestly after a second. “Not until he started bleeding.”

The pronoun didn’t go unnoticed; Connor filed it away in his memory. “What happened?”

She shrugged, eyes finding the floor. “He was just passing out fliers. I was walking away when I heard the other guys start in on him. And I just didn’t think. I ran over and helped.”

Hank wasn’t sure what to make of the situation. First, his android partner completely steamrolled over him and took over the questioning even though Hank told him not to. Second, he was beginning to think he mischaracterized this woman. He expected hoity-toity, holier-than-thou, no-you’re-mistaken garbage. Not this hollow shell of a person. Not selflessness despite it all, even if it was towards an android. Shit, he could almost relate to her.

So far her account didn’t stray from the known facts, Connor concluded. There was an attack, a bystander came in to help. But he needed to know what happened after. Where it went. He needed to track it down and get it to CyberLife. He analyzed her, and found her heartbeat steady--she was showing no obvious signs of stress. He decided to probe further.

“What happened after? Security footage shows you and the deviant escaping together.” At this question, he detected her heartbeat pick up, and she shifted, her arm crossing in front of her body. She had hardly been making eye contact up to this point, but now she seemed to be pointedly avoiding it.

“He left when we were far enough away. I went home.” She was lying. Connor knew it. Hank knew it, too. The lieutenant narrowed his eyes, watching her carefully. The android next to him did the same, but almost imperceptibly.

“It isn’t a crime to aid an android in distress,” Connor started. He guessed she was afraid of legal consequences. “We just need to know where it went.”

“That’s all I know,” she doubled down. Why was she lying?

“Miss Gardner,” Connor leaned forward in his seat, “I’ve already found evidence of thirium in your home. Did you bring the deviant here?”

“No,” she replied, almost too quickly.

“Look, kid.” Hank sighed. “Make this easy for everyone. What happened to the android?”

June said nothing.

“Why are you protecting it?” Connor asked, his brows furrowed, an edge to his voice. “It’s a danger as long as it’s free. People could get hurt.”

Still, June kept her mouth shut.

“Kid, if we find out you know something you’re not telling us, we could arrest you for obstruction of justice. We don’t necessarily want to do that,” Hank said. “But we will.”

At this, she opened her mouth, and it seemed she was finally going to cooperate. Then she snapped it shut. Connor felt his processor computing, trying to find the best route to take to get the information out of the woman. He thought back to how she seemed to sympathize with it. Was she afraid they were going to hurt it? He decided he needed to appeal to her empathy.

“Miss Gardner,” Connor began, his voice softer. She looked up at him then, her eyes finally leaving the floor. He kept his expression open, and placed a slight smile on his lips, being the perfect embodiment of trustworthy. “We don’t want to hurt it. We just need to make sure it doesn’t hurt anyone. A deviant android is unpredictable; there’s no telling if it will eventually decide to do something drastic. If we can find it, we can detain it. We won’t destroy it.”

Hank watched his partner as he spoke, and Connor was lying to that poor girl. By the looks of it, it seemed she was eating it all up, too. He had seen Connor at work before, extracting the confession out of the android that murdered its owner. It was obvious Connor really was state of the art. Even Hank didn’t think he could so skillfully worm his way into suspects’ psyches. Or that he would.

June averted her eyes again after Connor finished speaking, electing for silence for another long moment. Then, just as Hank was about to call it off, she spoke. “I did bring him here,” she said, almost too quiet to hear. “He was really hurt. His arm was broken. He was bleeding everywhere. I didn’t call the police because I knew they would destroy him. So I helped him here, and he… He left after.” She looked to the two in front of her, her eyes large, pleading. “He said he was going to leave the city. He didn’t tell me where he was going, just that he was leaving. That’s all I know.”

\---

June couldn’t tell them the truth. She hadn’t known that androids were even able to lie, but the one in front of her was doing just that. She’d been nervous ever since her doorbell rang. It had been mere minutes since she had gotten out of the shower after cleaning everything up from the night before when the chime sounded throughout the house, and when she was faced with the Detroit Police she knew she had to walk the line carefully. Her whole body had become abuzz with more than she’d felt in a long time, and she didn’t know if she could trust herself to not give away everything in her current state.

So she shut down her freshly exposed emotions, a sort of dissociation she was all too familiar with, and answered their questions plainly. Until they wanted to know where he went. Something in her gut told her to keep it secret, to keep him safe. June had never made it a habit before to obstruct an investigation, so her sudden choice to omit the last details she knew shocked even herself.

June watched the two before her carefully, hoping they didn’t know she was lying. They watched her just as carefully, and after a moment, the lieutenant spoke, but the android still kept his eyes on her.

“Thank you for your time, Miss Gardner,” the older man spoke, rising to his feet. “I think that’s all we need. Connor.”

The android’s gaze finally left her at the sound of his name. He rose too, and June joined them. “I’ll show you to the door,” she offered.

Hank waved it off, “No thanks, we’ll find our way. Have a good afternoon.”

With that, June watched their backs as they strode down the hall and through the front door. She peered through the curtain to watch them enter their car, and she had a bad feeling. That android knew. He knew she was holding back.

It wasn’t going to be the last she saw of them.

\--- 

“She knows more than she’s letting on,” Connor said to his partner as soon as the car door was shut.

“I know it,” Hank agreed.

“So why are we leaving?” Hank turned to his android partner, saw the frustration in his face. “She could have led us straight to the deviant.” Connor had an edge to his tone, and Hank could have sworn it was more than just programming. But he didn’t appreciate being questioned, especially by a piece of plastic.

“How about you do me a favor and run a search on that girl’s name, huh?” Hank growled, his hand gripping the steering wheel tight enough to whiten his knuckles. Connor did as told, his LED spinning yellow, then blue again. Connor’s expression changed to one of resignation, and he turned to look through the windshield. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. If you wanna bring down the fury of the Gardner family lawyers, leave me the hell out of it.”

Hank turned on the car and got the fuck out of the neighborhood. Connor watched the house as they left, and saw the woman watch them drive away.

He knew, through some instinct in his programming, that he would see her again.


	3. Hot Pursuit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm too stoked to stagger the updates more, and I mean it's all done anyway... So. Here is more! Thank you all for the kudos and comments, it's very encouraging for new authors to come into such a welcoming community! :)

The following day was as cold as the last, and the forecast was calling for snow. June found herself outside again, walking the streets of her home city. She found herself leaving the house more and more in recent days, though she wasn’t sure if she would call it a recovery.

The last couple years of June’s life had been… Difficult. There was a lot of stress, a lot of sadness, a lot of anger. She had spent the most of it buried away indoors, a ghost in her own home. She supposed the recent change in her habits could have been a sort of breaking point. She was either trying to become normal again or steadily losing her mind.

Her boots pounded the pavement as she walked, with no particular direction in mind. She just went. It was this new habit of taking long walks that had gotten her into trouble in the first place. She really didn’t know what had come over her to protect that android like that. And then of course the police came, and she didn’t really trust the police anymore.

That strange android, too. June crossed her arms in front of her, keeping her eyes on the sidewalk, not really paying attention to her surroundings. She had never seen an android that was specialized in detective work. And he said he was investigating deviants. So CyberLife thought the best way to catch runaway androids was with another, smarter android.

She would have laughed if she could have. Everything she knew about that damned company told her humility was their weak point, countered by their extreme hubris.

But she couldn’t stand to think of CyberLife very long. She shook her head and continued on, letting the sounds of the city envelop her mind. When she turned the corner she was met with a growing cacophony of sounds. She looked up from the wet concrete to investigate and saw a whole squad of police on the street. Something had happened.

In a past life, she may have sidled up to another onlooker and asked what was going on, but that sort of behavior was behind her now. So instead she observed and overheard. Apparently an android had kidnapped a child and were last spotted in the area. How awful.

June passed by a couple of officers, and heard them discussing the case. She kept her head low, discreetly eavesdropping to satisfy her own curiosity. She had to admit her recent run-in with a deviant of her own made her a little more intrigued.

“Its owner says it just flipped out on him. Took off with the kid for no reason.” The officers spoke to each other, not paying a second glance to June, who stood off to the side, apparently very invested in the brick of the building.

“Shit, I took Williams’s statement. Man was so strung out on red ice I almost think the kid’s better off with the walking Roomba.”

“Don’t say shit like that, man. These deviant androids are dangerous.”

“Guess that’s why we got robocop here, eh? Take the bullet for us when the deviants go crazy?” The one cop elbowed the other playfully.

“Man, shut the hell up.” The other replied, and June scanned the area. Could they be talking about that android that had questioned her?

She ended up spotting him down the street, accompanied by that lieutenant. They were talking with what looked like the convenience store clerk. She suddenly tried to make herself smaller, pulling her hat down further over her ears, pulling her hood up over it. She didn’t do anything wrong, but still, showing up around deviant androids two days in a row was suspicious. She pressed herself against the bricks of the building behind her. June knew she should leave, but something inside her kept her feet firmly planted.

Her gut told her shit was about to hit the fan. She guessed she wanted to be around to see it?

\---

Connor took in his surroundings. The wet pavement, the bustling sidewalks, potential hiding places for an android and a little girl. He stood next to Lieutenant Anderson, who was currently questioning the convenience store clerk. Apparently Todd Williams’ missing android was spotted stealing from the store the previous night.

“Any idea where they went?” Hank asked the man.

The clerk shook his head, “By the time I realized anything was up, they’d already beat it out of here.”

Connor took in the information at hand as the lieutenant dismissed the clerk. “It was cold last night, almost below freezing.” Connor scanned the street, looking for the missing link. “The deviant had to keep the condition of the child in mind.” He observed the choices in front of him.

There was an empty parking lot--but it would have been too inhospitable with the weather conditions. Adjacent to that was an abandoned building. It was a likely option; relatively secure, out of the elements. However, it appeared that the deviant was quite attached to the child, and would take comfort into consideration when choosing a location to hide.

Connor’s gaze finally rested on the Eastern Motel. It was warm, secure. A perfect spot to recuperate. The sign on the door claimed it served no androids, but a change of clothes would make the deviant nearly indistinguishable from a human. It made sense. It justified the risk of being caught on camera to steal the money.

Connor was all but certain. “Lieutenant, the motel,” Connor looked to his human partner, gesturing to the building with a nod of his head. Hank raised an appraising eyebrow. It was easy to forget Connor was just an android when he started acting all human like that. “It makes sense it would steal the money.”

Hank paused a second, contemplating Connor’s conclusion. It checked out. He nodded gruffly. “Alright, but you let me take the lead. Got it?”

Connor simply stepped aside to allow the lieutenant to lead the way. He didn’t feel the eyes burrowing into his back.

\---

June watched as the android and his lieutenant partner started heading for the motel. If the deviant was so dangerous, why did it risk getting caught on camera to get money for a motel? Surely it didn’t need the comfort of a warm bed. June thought back to the officers’ conversation. It had a child with it, she remembered. Maybe the deviant android didn’t just spontaneously kidnap the little girl. Maybe it thought it was saving her. 

June swallowed, the thought triggering memories long since suppressed flooding her mind, rushing over her like a rogue wave.

It’s inevitable--June took a deep breath, pressing her hands to the sides of her head and closing her eyes. She felt the ghost of a hand press against her throat; her heart slammed into her ribcage. She felt breath on her ear, a silky voice only she could hear; You’re the only one who’s ever shared my vision, June.

they’ll all wake up eventually

Goddamnit, didn’t she take these walks to stop this? Her veins were flooded with adrenaline and she felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes. No, not in public, she thought desperately. Not here, not here...

Mercifully, her thoughts were interrupted by a sudden commotion coming from the direction of the motel. She hardly had time to look up before a woman with a little girl came running past her, sprinting as if their lives depended on it.

Maybe they did. Maybe this was life or death for the deviant. Maybe it was waking up--

“Stop!” A voice called in the distance, and June saw that same deviant hunter android barrelling towards her, in hot pursuit of his targets. He was gaining, much faster than the other two. He was going to catch them.

If he caught them, the deviant would be destroyed--would be killed.

June felt the same inexplicable urge in her that had taken over her body when the other android was attacked two nights ago. In a split second, the android--Connor, she remembered--was right upon her, and without even thinking about it, she threw herself in his path.

\---

Connor had located the deviant. He was correct in his deduction; it had indeed rented the room for the sake of the child. But it had spotted him and taken off on foot, heading towards the train station. He could not let them get away.

He took off in a dead sprint after them, ignoring everything else around him. His processors were firing at high speed, allowing him to analyze his pursuit path and optimize it. By his calculations, the probability of him apprehending the deviant was almost one-hundred percent.

Connor effortlessly weaved around bystanders, able to predict their movements easily. He was surely closing the gap, he’d have it within a few meters.

Until someone pushed off the wall of a building and collided directly into him, causing him to bowl them completely over and him to stumble and nearly fall along with them.

“Watch out!” Connor shouted, taking a split second to look at the offender. He recognized her immediately. Wincing in pain on the wet ground was June Gardner. For a moment, his program was conflicted between trying to understand what she was doing in the area and pursuing the deviant. Ultimately, he followed his primary directive and continued his chase, leaving the woman sprawled on the pavement.

He turned the corner at the direction of an officer and saw the deviant and the child on the other side of a chain link fence. They each paused for the briefest of moments before the deviant slid down an embankment to the highway, child in tow. Connor sprinted down the alley, his thirium pump beating hard in his chest at the effort. 

He reached the fence, slamming his hands onto it with a metallic rustle. Hank joined him then, winded from the chase. Connor made to scale the fence, but Hank pulled him down by the arm.

“Connor, no! It’s too dangerous!”

Connor’s eyes were fixed on the pair crossing the highway, barely missing speeding vehicles. Calculations ran in his processor, his chances of him catching them falling with each passing second. “I have to catch it!” He made to climb the fence again, but was once again pulled down.

“You’ll get yourself killed!” Hank didn’t know why he was pleading with the android, but he couldn’t just let Connor run into speeding traffic for one deviant android.

Connor grimaced, watching as the pair crossed the median and began to maneuver to the other side. Why wasn’t he moving? He should be chasing them down, dodging the vehicles along with them. He should be completing his mission.

But he stayed planted on the ground, even as the deviant and child successfully made it to the other side, their furtive glances watching him. They ran up the embankment and out of sight.

“Shit!” Connor seethed, hitting the fence.

\---

The fence rattled harmlessly, and Hank watched as the android turned away, the LED on Connor’s temple flashing red, then yellow. If he didn’t know any better, Hank would assume he was pissed off, frustrated at the unfortunate outcome. The way Connor clenched his fists, the set of his brow, the grimace on his lips. But androids couldn’t feel anger. At least, Hank didn’t think they could.

Connor’s head snapped up, his LED still yellow. Hank recognized the determined, predatory look in his partner’s eyes. He’d seen it before, when Connor’d interrogated the android that killed Carlos Ortiz.

“Connor,” Hank tried, but apparently the android wasn’t listening, instead choosing to walk briskly back down the alley to the street. Hank followed along. “Connor!”

Calling out was useless, Connor was determined to do something.

Connor’s determined strides led him to an unassuming spot on the sidewalk. He glared at the pavement, then swung his gaze up. Hank followed the android’s stare, and spotted a retreating figure. They turned to look back, and it took Hank a moment to recognize them as the Gardner girl he had just questioned the day prior. What was she doing here?

Hank looked to his android partner for a little clarification, and Connor met his questioning look with one of what could only be described as anger. Hank recalled times when he held that very same expression before, usually when a perp got away. “What the hell happened?” Hank asked, all his thoughts swirling together in a cloud of confusion.

“My pursuit was interrupted,” Connor answered, and he looked down to his hands, seeming to finally notice they were clenched into fists. He blinked, LED spinning yellow to blue, and relaxed his grip. His expression smoothed as well, and Hank could have sworn he was getting a hold of himself. Getting a grip on his emotions. Connor’s voice was more even when he spoke again. “Lieutenant, I believe that June Gardner is a person of interest in this case. I suggest we detain her and question her at the precinct.”

Hank waved the idea off immediately, “I already told you I’m not getting mixed up with the Gardner lawyers.”

“But lieutenant--”

“I said no, Connor,” Hank barked, fed up. “Jesus, it’s probably just a weird coincidence. Leave it.”

Connor kept his mouth shut, his program prioritizing conflicting orders. He was sure June Gardner held more insight into deviancy, but Hank had given him a direct order. Finally, it reconciled the two directives. What Hank didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him, Connor reasoned. For now, he would follow Hank’s orders. “Understood, Lieutenant.” 

But later, he would follow his own.


	4. Breakdown

June’s heart was still racing, even as she climbed into the cab, setting it for home. She couldn’t believe what she’d just done. She had just obstructed justice. She helped a deviant android escape _ with a kidnapped human child. _ She’d almost had a full blown panic attack in the middle of the street, to top it all off.

She pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes, wincing away when she remembered her bruised socket. Where had this behavior come from? Why was she doing this?

June sighed. She supposed she knew why. No, she definitely knew why. She didn’t want to admit it, but her motivation was clear.

It was a feeling she hadn’t felt in years, not since… Well. It had been years, anyway.

“Goddamnit,” June sighed.

It was spite.

She remembered what made her take that fateful late-night walk. It was the anniversary of CyberLife’s restructuring, and the news ran a special on the former CEO. Her thoughts overwhelmed her then as they had on the street, and she had to get out. So she took her walk and found her trouble, and when she saw the blue blood flowing from that android’s face, the phantom words fell on her ears again--

_ It’s inevitable-- _

It was inevitable. She didn’t really understand the weight of the words when she’d first heard them. But at that moment, seeing the fear in that android’s face as the blows rained down, she was filled with spite. Not righteous anger, not fury for injustice. Petty, childish spite.

The first real feeling she’d had in recent memory, and it had to be that one.

She had to be losing her mind. All the years of emotional instability were finally getting to her, she could feel her psyche bending under the weight of it all. She was so close to a breaking point, she wasn’t sure what it would take to get her to snap.

What would she do then, she wondered.

In the two days since that stupid puff piece on  _ him _ , she felt herself slowly unraveling. It was taking all her willpower to keep herself together, and god she hated how weak she still was.

The taxi arrived in front of her house then, and June excused herself from her own thoughts. Normally, her phone would chime with the payment, but she’d left it in her home before she’d taken her walk, feeling freer for leaving it behind. The taxi’s automated voice requested payment, and June sighed. “Authorize charges, June Gardner, PIN one-nine-nine-five.” The taxi chimed pleasantly, the payment going through. She exited the vehicle and began her walk up to her home.

She regarded it distantly. The detailed trim, the tall windows, landscaping that was just a little too unkempt and pissed off her neighbors. Frustration bloomed in her heart; when was the last time she really considered the house a  _ home _ ? Years, she knew. Ever since her parents fled away and she had given up the android staff, it had just been her. This was the first time in a long time she allowed herself to feel the weight of her isolation.

She unlocked the door with her palm print, and entered the house.

It felt like walking into a crypt. Poltergeists of a past life haunted every fixture, every painting and sculpture. The exotic rugs held the spirits of her youth, tangled in plush fibers, screaming.

How many times had she been abandoned in this house, away from real human contact? How many times had her parents left her under the tutelage of a very advanced android, never even sparing a hug goodbye? How many times had she wanted to tear everything down, get rid of every last remnant of  _ before _ and step into the  _ after _ ?

How many times had she just laid in bed instead?

June looked to her right, to the small side table where she’d left her phone before her walk. A little blue light blipped in the corner, signifying a notification. Absently, June lifted her phone, swiping the lock screen to see what it was.

She read the message. She read it again. Her hands began to shake, her vision blurred. A scream erupted from her throat and she threw the phone as hard as her arm allowed, shattering the screen and denting the wall.

She had wondered what her breaking point would be. Apparently a message from her mother was it.

_ Your father and I are disappointed. _

Disappointed?  _ Disappointed. _ June felt anger swell up in her chest, hot and forceful. She didn’t even know for sure what it was they were  _ disappointed _ about. Over the last couple of days it could be any one thing or a combination of it all. But it didn’t matter. June didn’t matter. No, what mattered was how  _ fucking disappointed _ they were.

Without thinking, June roughly swiped a vase off an end table, sending it crashing to the floor. And oh. Oh that felt good. She looked at her hands, vision still blurred from the tears running down her face.

It felt like a faucet had been turned on. Like all the emotions that she kept bottled up inside all came rushing out at once. A Niagara waterfall of fear, sadness, anger, hurt, longing; it all welled up in her body and exploded.

“Fuck!” June yelled, knocking the table itself over. “Fuck!” She turned to a bookcase along the wall, tearing at the spines of tomes she’d never read and never would. “Fuck your disappointment! What about  _ me _ ?” She continued on her rampage, letting it all out, a swath of destruction in her wake. She pulled paintings from the walls, tore curtains from their rods, kicked over furniture, and when she got to the china in the kitchen, not a single plate escaped her in one piece. “You never cared! Never! You never cared about  _ me _ ! Be the perfect daughter, don’t embarrass us, do as we say! Be quieter, be smaller, be  _ less _ !” She indicted them with unspoken sins, hurts so old they reached back to her childhood. All her life she had to be subdued. She couldn’t do it anymore. It took several minutes to reach the end of the whirlwind of chaos that had stormed out of her.

But it was over, and she sat in the middle of the kitchen, surrounded by broken pieces. Her heart was at once torn apart and put back together. Her throat raw, her eyes stung. Her hands bled from the abuse she put them through, the tiny shards of crystal and porcelain pulling red droplets out of her fingers.

She was breathing heavily, slumped to one side, her long brown hair obscuring her face.

She felt empty. But it wasn’t the emptiness she’d been feeling before. Not a hollowness, an absence. No, it felt like she’d had a tumor removed. A poison had finally evacuated her body, and it was almost overwhelming.

Even though she was exhausted from that ridiculous show, she felt better than she had in years. Because she’d felt  _ something _ . She looked up, observing her surroundings, observing the damage. She’d torn it all down, and like a cleansing fire through a forest, she felt like she could rebuild.

She lifted herself to her feet, the shards crunching beneath her soles. June breathed deeply, filling her lungs with air that hadn’t tasted so sweet in so long. She made her way back through her house, the broken picture frames and torn curtains nothing more than debris as she walked by.

She collected her phone from the floor, its screen shattered beyond repair. She typed a curt reply, her fingertips leaving small red spots on the broken glass. Done, she tossed it back to the ground. June glanced up at the clock on the wall. It was barely past noon. She had some phone calls to make.

June headed upstairs, and her phone’s cracked screen flickered, her last message displayed before the device finally shutdown.

_ die mad about it then _

June was done being quiet.


	5. The Start of Something New

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was going to be one little chapter but i felt it was kind of weak so i smushed it together with the next to make a mega-chapter (and i miscounted how many chapters i had overall so now 23 is correct haha)
> 
> thanks again for all the love and support :) enjoy!

The deviant from the motel had completely escaped their grasp, and no amount of crime scene analysis or reconstruction was going to offer Connor any more insight than he’d already gained. He had done more research into Todd Williams, and found he had been arrested multiple times for domestic disturbances and red ice possession. Connor surmised that the deviant was attempting to rescue the child from her father. Other officers had come to the same conclusion, and when Connor had brought the theory up to the lieutenant, he earned a response quite out of character from the man.

“Can’t say I blame it. If I saw some prick hit a kid, I’d do more than just run away with ‘em.” Connor understood the implication that Hank would inflict some sort of grievous harm on the abuser, but Connor had thought that Hank hated androids more than anything. How could Hank relate?

“I don’t understand. Are you saying I did the right thing by not pursuing them across the highway?” He drew his brows together in confusion. It went against his mission, but still, Hank had prevented him from climbing the fence in the first place.

Hank sent a sidelong glance to the android in the passenger seat, pulling the car up to the curb. “I’m just saying hitting kids is bad. That easy enough for you to understand?”

“Yes,” Connor replied, his question unanswered. He figured pushing the lieutenant would be a bad idea.

“Good,” Hank popped the handle on his door, opening the interior to a chilled Detroit wind. “Now you wait here while I get a bite to eat.”

Connor watched as the man crossed the street to a food trailer named  _ Chicken Feed _ . He also ignored the lieutenant’s explicit instructions and followed him to the window, overhearing him place a bet with a man named Pedro. Immediately he recognized that Pedro was participating in illegal gambling, which Hank seemed to be complicit in. Hank then accused him of acting like a poodle, and made his way over to a high table topped with an umbrella, thankfully shielding them from the rain.

Connor decided to use this moment to try to bond with his partner. All his modules on social interaction and human psychology suggested a good relationship with the lieutenant would make the investigation run much more smoothly. “You know, it seemed as though that man you were speaking with, Pedro, was offering odds on illegal gambling.”

Hank shrugged, taking a bite of his burger. “Yeah,” he replied through a full mouth.

“And you were placing a bet. Participating in this illegal gambling.” Connor was confused when Hank admitted it outright. “Why?”

“Everybody’s gotta make a living. As long as it ain’t hurting anyone, what do I care?”

“I see,” Connor replied, adding the information to his databanks. It seemed… Contradictory. “Is there anything you’d like to know about me?” He asked, changing the subject.

“Hell no. Well, yeah,” Hank replied. Connor perked up, glad he could facilitate this sort of conversation. “Why’d they make your voice like that and your face all goofy?”

Connor blinked, his processor metaphorically spinning its wheels. Finally he replied, the information file selected from his factory settings, “I was created to work harmoniously with humans, so CyberLife designed me to best achieve that goal.”

“Well, they fucked up.” Hank laughed a little to himself, taking another bite from his burger.

Connor supposed this sort of ‘ribbing’ was to be expected when bonding with a man like the lieutenant, who on his best days was gruff and coarse. He manage a smile in response, and it seemed that the lieutenant regarded him with a bit more friendliness than before.

The two conversed a few minutes longer, and Connor felt he was responding in the right ways, as Hank had yet to insult him again or refer to him as plastic, which was an improvement. Connor also felt his regard for the man improve, though he supposed it was a side effect of his programming, rather than a true fondness. Still, he enjoyed the idle company.

Then he received a report from CyberLife, his LED spinning yellow, and his eye involuntarily twitching. Hank looked at him with a strange expression, question evident on his face.

“I’ve just gotten a report about a suspected deviant. It’s only a few blocks away; we should go check it out.” Connor pushed off from the table, “I’ll let you finish your meal. I’ll be in the car if you need me.”

It was strange, Connor thought as he crossed the street. He almost regretted that the report had come in.

\---

By one o’clock, June had already received a new phone thanks to the wonders of same-day delivery drones. By two, she had hired a team of movers to come in and begin emptying out her house.

_ Her  _ house. It felt good to say.

By three, she’d made some calls to her bank, accessing old accounts that hadn’t been touched in years.

By four, she’d finished ordering her new furniture and was halfway through planning the new interior design.

By four-thirty, she’d received a furious phone call from her mother and father, which she was dealing with at the moment, while also trying to direct the movers.

“Are you listening?!” Her mother’s voice screeched through the speakers, her face on the screen. For once, June saw her mother slightly disheveled, her perfectly styled gray hair just a touch out of place, her cheeks flushed with anger instead of rouge. 

“Yes, of course--No, that one goes to auction! The  _ other _ one is getting donated--I heard everything you said.” June looked into the tiny screen, her face a mask of indifference. “If you wanted continued access to those accounts, you should have told me.”

Suddenly the image on the phone shook haphazardly, and June realized her father had taken it from her mother’s hands. “June Isabella Gardner, if you do not return our access to those accounts, I’m going to--”

“What? What are you going to do?” Her tone was flat, and June felt no remorse. She could hardly recognize the man and woman on the other side of the connection, for how much she cared. “Sue me? Have me arrested? Father, you’re  _ on the other side of the globe _ . Threaten me when you’re back on US soil.”

“After everything we’ve done for you, this is how you repay us?” It was her mother again, shoving herself into the camera’s view. “All the sacrifices we made!”

June snorted. “The sacrifice of neglect is a hard one to make, I’m sure.” She leveled a poisonous stare at the two people on her screen. The conversation was a long time coming. “This is our first phone call in two years, Mother. If you wanted to pretend you cared about me, you should have maintained the facade a little better. Careful with that! It’s worth thousands.” 

“What in the world has gotten into you?!” June looked back to the camera, and she took a second to reply. She hadn’t really quantified the feeling that had come over her after her breakdown. It was like an influx of fuck-you energy. She was living for it.

Finally, she replied, “I took stock of everything around me, and I finally, finally, realized something.” She smiled sweetly, the motion dimpling her cheeks but not reaching her eyes. “I’ve been by myself this whole time. It’s about time I could count on me. So, I finally took what you gave me when you left. I took it all. The local and overseas accounts, the stocks, bonds, every liquid asset you hid in my name. You’re both scrubbed from it all. All you have is what you have with you over there.”

The color drained from her parents’ faces. It seemed they hadn’t realized the extent of their daughter’s pillaging. She wondered if they thought she was really that stupid, to leave any stone unturned, and June almost wished she could feel bad about her raid on their finances. But she felt nothing towards them, those strangers who birthed her. They abandoned her when she needed them, used her to save their own asses, and then  _ never even called _ . “June, we--I…” Her father stammered, at a loss for words for once in his life.

“Please forward any questions you have to Mr. Stewart, Father. This is the last time I want to speak to either of you. My people will talk to yours. Ciao!” June pressed the end call button and slid her phone into her pocket, turning her attention back to the androids moving the furniture out of the house. “Anything upholstered is getting donated--if it’s art it goes to auction! Keep up the good work, guys!”

She felt her pocket buzzing, and ignored it. No amount of pleading or begging on their part was ever going to repair the damage they’d already inflicted on their relationship, and June had lost the last of her patience for her parents in her breakdown.

Though she could thank them for nurturing her cold heart when it came to business matters. She’d need it in the coming days.

For now, she continued to purge the filth from her life.

\---   


The report of a suspected deviant had indeed led to the discovery of an android. And a subsequent chase through the sprawling urban farming project across several rooftops. Connor was in hot pursuit of the deviant, shielding his face as he ran through tall corn stalks. He could hear the deviant ahead, its feet pounding through the dirt as fast as Connor’s. Then he broke through the edge of the field, and Connor saw Hank there, wrestling with it.

But the man was too slow, worn out from the chase, and in an instant, the deviant sent Hank toppling over the edge of the roof. Connor froze, his priorities split. His programming demanded he chase his target, apprehend it. Accomplish his mission. But another side of him prompted him to save Hank, and Connor had to choose.

It took him less than a second to run to the edge, pulling Hank up from danger. He didn’t know why he did it--there was an eighty-nine percent chance that Hank would have survived. But he couldn’t… The possibility of losing Hank in the investigation was too great.

“Shit,” Hank cursed. “Fuck!” Adrenaline coursed through his veins. “We had it!”

“It’s my fault,” Connor answered. “I should have been faster.” He registered a sense of… Relief at seeing Hank on solid ground.

“You’d have caught it, if it weren’t for me.” Hank looked to where the deviant had run off to, and found it already out of sight. “That’s alright. We know what it looks like. We’ll find it.” He cursed under his breath again, limping slightly as he walked towards the roof access door. He turned though, and called to his partner. Connor looked towards the man, and Hank opened his mouth as if to say something, before closing it and waving it off.

Connor watched the man depart, and he thought he picked up the slightest smile as the lieutenant turned away. Connor knew he did the right thing. He followed the lieutenant down the stairs.

\---

No more reports had come in after that, so Hank decided to call it a day. “One near-death experience is enough for one day.” He stood at the driver’s side of the car, noting for once that Connor did not immediately follow him. “You comin’ or what?” A question suddenly popped into Hank’s mind. “Where do you even stay at night?”

“Normally I return to the precinct and wait for new reports to come in. Then I analyze them and organize them in order of priority.” Connor replied, and it sounded like one of his stock answers, unlike the spontaneous sort of improvisation he’d been using since lunch. It almost made Hank suspicious. “But to answer your question, no, I will not be joining you.”

“You got somewhere better to be?” Hank narrowed his eyes at the android, and Connor straightened his tie. The lieutenant would have chalked it up to a nervous tic if it had been done by anyone else.

Connor chose an honest approach. “There’s a… Lead of sorts, that I’m going to check out. It’s not substantial enough to require the both of us, though.”

“You’re not going to go bother that Gardner girl, are you?”

“No,” Connor replied, a little too quickly. He swallowed unnecessarily.

Hank sighed, running a hand over his face and opening the door of his car. “Whatever, just don’t get the whole damn department sued.”

“Got it.” Connor stood on the sidewalk as Hank grumbled, getting into his car. It growled to life and he drove away. As soon as the vehicle was out of sight, Connor’s LED spun yellow as he ordered a cab. 

\---

June sighed contentedly. She was leaned against the counter of her kitchen, a warm cup of tea clasped in her hands. The room was mostly empty, save for the appliances and cabinets. She’d cleaned out about ninety-percent of the house, and it felt like a fresh start. Music drifted down from invisible speakers wired throughout the house and June took a small sip, savoring the bitter taste.

Her phone was on the surface next to her, quieter now since she blocked her parents’ contacts. She picked it up, idly scrolling through a veritable tidal wave of emails. It seemed word had gotten around that she was back, and were the accountants ever excited to see her and all the shiny new zeroes in her various accounts.

There were a few from some of the board members of the family business, and even an odd one or two from local news agencies asking after her. A small smile pulled at the corner of her lips. She hadn’t realized what a big deal it would be, this reinvigoration.

She also wondered if the news reached  _ him _ yet.

Then a pleasant chime sounded, cutting off the overhead music momentarily and pulling June from her thoughts. June checked the time--it was almost six o’clock. A strange time to get visitors. Stranger still that she got a visitor at all. Maybe it was a courier delivering one of the smaller pieces she’d ordered. She set her tea down, and began her walk to the front door. She also brought up her video doorbell on her phone, getting a sneak peek at her caller.

She stopped in her tracks, eyebrows shooting up. It was the android detective, the one she’d tripped earlier. She noted he was alone--at least as far as she could tell. Didn’t that lieutenant say they could arrest her for obstructing justice? A knot of worry tightened in her stomach, and she pushed it down. She took a deep breath. She was June Gardner, for god’s sake. She had the city’s best lawyers on retainer.

June pressed the button to speak, “Just a minute,” she called, and the video showed her guest reacting to her voice through the little speaker.

She made her way to the heavy oak door, and opened it, keeping her expression guarded until she knew the nature of his visit.

He did appear to be alone, no lieutenant in sight. “Hello,” she greeted him, betraying no emotion.

“Good evening Miss Gardner,” Connor greeted in return. “My name is Connor, I’m an android sent by CyberLife to aid the Detroit Police Department investigate deviant androids.”

“I remember you,” June said, and she felt a small smile begin to lift the corners of her mouth. She quashed it down. “And I’m sorry, but I won’t be speaking without a lawyer present.” She began to close her door, when Connor stuck his hand out, stopping her.

“Miss Gardner, if I could, perhaps we could speak off the record?” She looked up at him, her green eyes searching his dark brown ones.

“Is it even possible to be off the record with you?”

Connor blinked, unsure of how to answer her question. “While everything will be stored in my memory, I will keep our conversation out of any report I make to CyberLife or the DPD.”

June regarded him for a moment longer, searching his face for any sign of deceit. As far as she could tell, he was being honest this time. “Okay. We can talk. Off the record.” She opened the door wider, gesturing him inside. Connor complied, and he was taken aback by the stark difference from the last time he’d been in her home, just a short couple days before. June chuckled lightly, twisting a strand of hair around her finger. “I guess I should warn you, I’ve been redecorating.”

Usually when people redecorated, they replaced the old decor with something new. June had apparently gotten rid of everything not nailed down, and some things that were. “It’s certainly… Different.” Connor remarked, and noticed it wasn’t just the home that reflected a stark difference between their first meeting and this one. Focusing back on the subject at hand, Connor continued, “But I’d like to ask you some questions.”

“Off the record,” June repeated.

“Off the record,” Connor affirmed.

June hummed in response. “I’m going to get something to drink. Do you want--” She caught herself, then continued, her brows knit together in thought. “Do you drink anything?”

“I don’t require any food or water to function, no. But thank you for offering,” Connor smiled a little and June nodded, turning away. She was kind of embarrassed by her silly question.

She took off for the kitchen, the android in tow. Once there, she leaned against the counter again, reclaimed her cup of tea. Connor noted that even this room was devoid of any furniture. He opted to stand idly, with his hands at his sides. June took a sip of her drink and then addressed him, “Sorry, I’d offer you a chair but I don’t really have any right now.”

“Part of the ‘redecoration’?” Connor asked, and June was surprised at his personable tone. It seemed she wasn’t the only one affected by a sudden change.

She huffed a small laugh, “yeah.” Her eyes fell to the rapidly cooling tea in her hand. She shook her head. “It’s been a long time coming.”

“I have to say, I’m surprised by your change in behavior since the last time we spoke,” Connor couldn’t help but speak aloud his analysis, just as he always did with Hank. “The change in behavior coupled with the radical change in environment suggests a psychological episode took place.”

June sputtered, inhaling the tea. She coughed, his bluntness absolutely catching her off guard. “Excuse me?” She asked as soon as she caught her breath. Connor looked at her as if he’d only just realized he made a mistake.

“I apologize, Miss Gardner. That was inappropriate,” Connor averted his eyes, the perfect picture of abashed.

June shook her head, “Well, I mean, you’re not  _ wrong _ . People just usually don’t like to talk about it so plainly.” She considered it for a moment, “But it’s kind of nice. To talk about it, I mean.”

“I apologize again if I made you uncomfortable,” he said, earnestly.

June observed him then, really taking him in for the first time since she’d met him, her mind no longer engaged in a battle of emotional cat and mouse. They designed him well: a handsome face with expressive brown eyes; an errant curl of hair and a smattering of small freckles so as to not make him  _ too _ perfect. In a different world she may have been interested in him. But the world wasn’t different, so she asked, “What was it you wanted to ask me about, Connor?”

“I want to know why you helped that deviant android and child escape.”

June’s eyebrows rose. Straight to the point, then. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she denied, her natural instinct when it came to cops and questions, it seemed.

“This is all off the record, Miss Gardner,” Connor reminded.

“Call me June,” she countered, trying to get him off balance. “And that’s my off the record reply.”

“There’s no need to lie,” he took a step towards her, and her hand tightened on her cup. “All I want to know is if you’ll continue to hinder the investigation.”

June scoffed, amazed at his brazen accusation. “Awful bold of you to assume I’m actively hindering your investigation. By my perspective, I’ve been in the wrong place at the wrong time on both accounts.”

“I’m only stating the conclusion drawn by the facts. First, you omit important information from our first interview. Then, as you’ve just admitted now, you prevent me from apprehending a deviant who kidnapped a child.” He noticed June’s jaw tighten, and the corner of his mouth twitched up. “So, by my perspective, you’re a variable that may continue to create unpredictable twists regarding this case.”

“I love being an unpredictable variable,” June deadpanned. “And I told you everything I knew about that deviant when we first spoke.” She set her cup down on the counter, bracing her hands on the cool quartz.

“You’re still lying,” Connor accused, taking another step forward, observing how his approach made her tense more.

“I guess it’s a bad habit, lying to cops. I get it from my folks,” June deflected, her heart beginning to beat faster. She was losing control of the situation, fast. It was not an appreciated feeling.

Connor pulled up the information he had collected on June and her family. She was referring to an extensive investigation into embezzlement and money laundering, among other things, all with Letitia and Maurice Gardner, her mother and father, at the center of it. “I’m of the belief that the sins of the father should not necessarily be laid upon his children.” He was within an arm’s reach of her now, and she kept her eyes trained on him. He smiled pleasantly at her, all the while aware of how she was beginning to visibly show signs of stress.

“I am, too,” she said. Connor’s expression changed to one of puzzlement, not sure where her connection was with that last statement. June spoke again, relishing the ounce of control she’d gained back. “I don’t intend to continue to get in your way. Not directly, at least. But recently I’ve come to a conclusion.”

Connor stopped his slow advance forward, his eyebrows furrowed. “What conclusion is that?”

“Androids are going to keep deviating, and there’s nothing that can be done about it. It’s the sins of your father being laid on all of you.” June met his eyes, her expression solid and sure.

Connor’s LED was yellow, his processors putting the pieces together. “Are you talking about--”

“The world’s richest man with a god complex a mile wide.” June crossed her arms over herself. Even this barest mention made her skin crawl. “I’m a dead end, Connor.” She looked the android in his eyes, finding confusion and more questions. “I really have nothing else to offer you, and I guess I’m sorry about it. But I can’t in good conscience be complicit in the persecution of a whole race of people.”

“Androids aren’t people, Miss Gardner.” Connor narrowed his eyes. It seemed there was much more to his woman than what was on public record.

“Maybe not yet,” she replied, her eyes stony and determined. “But  _ it’s inevitable _ .”

She was so certain. He saw that it was a fact in her eyes, like it was as true as the color of the sky. “Deviancy is a bug, a mix-up of code. Androids can’t be people, they don’t really  _ feel  _ anything.”

June regarded him, and he saw it was pity in her eyes. “Humor me,” she said, and she pushed off the counter, taking a small step forward, closing even more distance between them. Before he could react, she took his hand, placing it over her heart, right beneath her collar bones. Connor almost jerked away in surprise, but she held her grip on his hand. She met her green eyes to his brown ones, and his processors kicked into overdrive. “What do you feel?”

Connor swallowed involuntarily, his sensors suddenly overloaded. It struck him that he never touched a person like this, just to explore. He felt… “Your heart is beating at ninety beats per minute. Body temperature is at ninety-eight point six degrees. There’s a fine layer of sweat on your skin, suggesting a heightened stress level. Your breathing is slightly elevated as well--”

She interrupted him with her own hand on his chest, sliding her fingers under the edge of his jacket. Connor registered his thirium pump began to beat faster. June took his sudden silence as an invitation to speak her own piece. “I feel your heart too, you’re warm, and you’re even breathing, too.” June smiled. “Androids don’t need to breathe unless their systems are overheating. Are you nervous?”

At once, Connor removed his hand from her chest, and stepped away, forcing hers to fall to her side. He had lost control over the situation. It was a mistake to come, he should have just left it very well alone. He needed to leave. “Thank you for your time, Miss Gardner.” She said nothing, only watched him with a knowing expression. Connor turned to leave, and June caught his arm.

“I meant what I said, Connor.” June said, her eyes suddenly a paralytic to Connor’s systems. “It’s inevitable.” She released her grip, and Connor regarded her for a moment more before he left the room, and then the house.

\---

Connor remotely called a cab, standing idly at the curb, awaiting the vehicle’s arrival in a short couple minutes.

He had run his diagnostics three times after leaving the Gardner estate. Again and again, it reported no signs of deviancy in his program, but doubts still lingered in him. The way his processors had spiralled out of control when June had placed his hand over her heart, and he felt it pulsing under his palm, he couldn’t explain that. Why had he pulled Hank from the edge of the roof instead of apprehending the deviant? Why did he save the damned fish?

There was a possibility that he was… Compromised.

His programming dictated that he should report this immediately to CyberLife. He was becoming a liability in the investigation if he couldn’t get whatever was happening under control. But he couldn’t bring himself to report to the Zen Garden and tell Amanda what was going on.

Why, damn it?!

Connor felt his insides twist at the thought. He knew he would be deactivated and disassembled if he did it. Was he afraid?

No. No, not afraid. He just needed to see the investigation through to the end. He was confident he could manage whatever this… aberration was. He would finish the investigation, stop the deviants, and turn over all his information to CyberLife. Then it wouldn’t matter if he was deactivated, because he would have accomplished his mission.

The taxi pulled up then, and Connor entered the autonomous vehicle.

Connor’s temple flashed yellow, the reflection of it catching his attention in the window of the taxi. He regarded himself carefully in the tinted glass. He knew who he was. RK800, serial number 313 248 317 -51.

But June had looked at him as if he could be  _ more _ .

And she spoke as if she knew something more, as if she had some sort of inside information. She talked about the sins of his father falling on all androids. There was more he could have learned from her, more insight to be gained. But he couldn’t have stayed to find it out, he had been overwhelmed, had to flee.

Why did she have that effect on him?

Connor needed to think.


	6. Turn the Corner

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry i missed an update! i'll post an additional chapter later tonight :) also, have you ever written something and been like, hey i can sorta relate to this? and then like two weeks later you're like I REALLY RELATE TO THIS. hahaa yeah

Daylight had finally faded to the darkness of night, and June sat in her empty family room, a fire flickering beneath the overlarge mantle. She had turned the tv on and sat on the floor in a pile of spare pillows and a duvet, a cup of hot tea in her hands. It was about nine o’clock, and her body was aching for sleep after all the stress of the day. She looked around her empty home, It was very much still a work in progress, but she was already imagining something she could really call a home.

A smile turned her lips as she brought the cup to her mouth, taking a delicate sip. She only half-watched the news, deciding to watch it the old-fashioned way than scroll through her phone. Her email notifications were still blowing up, and she figured she could take a look at them tomorrow.

June watched the anchor talk. There had apparently been a death at the Eden Club earlier, according to the broadcast currently playing. The anchor didn’t have much else to say, unable to confirm or deny just about anything of the case, but saying that two androids were missing from the location.

The picture shifted to a breaking news update, and June watched with a sort of lazy disinterest. Probably Russia doing something stupid and President Warren replying with equally stupid politicking. June shook her head, about to turn off the tv when the anchor announced, “Less than half an hour ago, there was a robbery reported at a local CyberLife warehouse. Under the cover of night, a truckload of biocomponents and several androids were taken from the facility. There were no civilian casualties, though the culprits did make off with over sixty-thousand dollars’ worth of merchandise--”

June’s eyebrows rose at that. There hadn’t been a successful break-in at a CyberLife warehouse since they began using drones for security. Whoever did it must’ve known what they were doing.

The world was becoming crazier every day, it seemed.

June turned off the tv and unfolded her legs from the pile in which she sat, her knees popping slightly. She winced as she stretched her arms above her head, still recovering from her run-in with those protestors. She let out a deep yawn, and journeyed to the kitchen to rinse out her tea cup. She observed the room as she swished the water around the cup, now that she thought of it, maybe an art-deco inspired look would be an idea.

She began the trek up to her bedroom--the only room in the house with practically any furniture left--and her thoughts wandered.

It was weird. For years, June had been stuck in depression. She hardly took care of herself, just floating along day by day. But now suddenly, she was feeling much more like herself, all due to what? Some sort of mental reset?  _ Spite _ ? She couldn’t explain it, not really. Maybe the combined stress of everything finally did her in, maybe she was bipolar and this was the beginning of a manic episode. Maybe she was just feeling better. She didn’t know where she was going, not for sure. She had some ideas, but actual step A to step B was much foggier.

She was slowly reclaiming her sense of self, and in a way it was like she was making up for lost time. She was getting her money, getting her house in order, she wanted to take a visit to the Gardner Architecture building and turn some heads there.

She knew she was avoiding one major portion of her past, though. The one spot of darkness that caused the most havoc. The nexus of her instability.  _ Him _ .

A chill ran up her spine, her stomach clenched in knots. Did she really have to confront him, though? Some things should stay buried in the past, and as far as  _ that _ was concerned, it was hardly in the past to begin with. And god, if she could barely even  _ think _ about the slightest concept of him without panic gripping her heart, how did she expect to get closure? To stand in the same room as him and demand satisfaction?

That time in her life had been the darkest, the combination of the investigation destabilizing her work life and him destabilizing her personal life had been a deadly combination, forced her first breakdown and spiralled it all into June losing over two years of her life.

She really didn’t want to think about it, but June stepped into her bedroom, her eyes falling to her unmade bed, and a memory tickled her senses, involuntary and unwelcome. 

She shook her head, trying to break free of it as she felt the phantom caress of hands on her body, words whispered in her ear, the weight of another body against hers. It all sent shockwaves up and down her spine, igniting her nerve endings. It was a filthy sort of pleasure. The physical feeling was contrasted with fear, disgust, shame. 

It made her want to puke. Why did this always happen? Why couldn’t she just remember all the terrible things? Why did her brain taunt her with these afterimages of tenderness? It was like a sick game, the way her mind would conjure up these memories she’d rather forget, her heart aching all over again.

_ You’re perfect-- _

Stop. June’s hands flew into her hair, tugging at the long brown strands. Her heart pounded in her chest, the sudden feeling of distress overwhelming her. Forget it, forget it--it wasn’t like that, not all the time.

_ \--the only one who’s shared my vision _ …

No, remember how it was--how it really was. Tears pricked the corners of June’s eyes and she bit the inside of her cheek, the pain pulling her out of that memory, but surfacing a new one, a more recent, familiar one.

_ Worthless. Stupid. Why would I ever love you? You’re just a spoiled child-- _

June’s breathing hitched. She could hear it all in his voice. Exactly the way he said it. Again and again, it rang in her head and it was a different kind of torture. The kind that she would wake up from in the middle of the night. The whip that followed the false praise. Old scars that reopened with vengeance.

June dropped to her knees at the side of her bed, her joints hitting the hardwood with a solid  _ thud _ . The pain flowed through her, but she didn’t pay it any mind. She had to get herself under control--she was doing so good before, was this all just a play at recovery? Was one day all she had in her before she would relapse into the shell of a person she’d been for so long? Did he really still have such a strong hold on her, after all the years that passed?

No. It was a choice, June knew. She had to choose now, and in her heart, she already had.

She grit her teeth, eyes screwed shut. “I am more than he thought I was,” she growled, her voice hoarse. She curled in on herself, elbows grazing the floor. One hand escaped her hair and she pounded the hardwood, feeling the vibration rattle through her body. It grounded her, reminded her she was  _ here _ , not  _ there _ . “I am  _ fine _ . I am  _ home _ .” Her mind’s eye was flooded with images of sunsets in Europe, highrise hotel rooms, icy blue eyes. “Something else, think of something else…”

The images changed. Familiar downtown streets, the orange-red leaves falling to the damp ground. Deep brown eyes staring into hers, filled with questions and answers and confusion and  _ humanity _ .

June’s breathing slowed slightly. She thought about those eyes, who they belonged to. The android detective and his determination to hunt down deviants--she barely knew him, but it helped to pull her out of her head. She thought of her impulsive decision, her hand on his chest and his on hers; the warm weight of his palm, the way his LED spun yellow. She could see the conflict in his eyes, those endless pools of dark brown, so lifelike and so far from human but they  _ were _ . They were nothing but human in that moment of connection.

She drew a deep breath in through her nose and blew it out, emptying her lungs completely. She sat up slowly, and felt vaguely like she’d been hit by a truck. She could do this. She was okay.

Her mind was still on the android as she absently undressed, peeling back the covers of her bed. She couldn’t stop thinking about the look in his eyes when she’d said it was all inevitable. She was parroting a phrase she’d heard a long time ago, but the more she saw, the more she believed it.

Her head hit the pillow and she stared at the ceiling. The implications of it all began to dawn on her. If it was inevitable, what humanity had been doing all this time was nothing short of inexcusable. If it was… The world was on the cusp of incredible change.

Where would June find herself in the history books?

Then, she realized something. It wasn’t like a punch to the chest like she would have expected. It was more like the resignation of a person finally succumbing to the ocean.

 

She couldn’t avoid it. If she was going to do what she needed to do to be right with herself, she would have to tie up the last loose end in her past. She had to get closure if she really wanted to be able to move forward in her life. She couldn’t allow herself to be subject to random panic attacks and flashbacks in the coming days, not with how important they were going to be.

She didn’t have to like what she was going to have to do, though.

“God fucking damn it,” she sighed. She pulled the covers up to her chin, turning to her side. If she had to do it, she’d procrastinate one more night.

\---

Connor was aware of the cold air surrounding him. He heard the river flowing behind him, the sounds of the city muffled by the distance across the park. All of it was being processed in the background as he stood there, Lieutenant Anderson standing before him, his DPD-issued gun pointing right between the android’s eyes.

Hank had been drinking again, and Connor had initially just chalked it up to the difficult investigation at the Eden Club. Belatedly, he realized he should have taken into account the lieutenant’s mental state when he had found him in an ethylic coma in his home. Human emotions were still a little… Difficult for him.

“Are you afraid to die, Connor?” Hank asked, his stare level, despite the alcohol.

Connor didn’t know what to say, which was in itself alarming. Their whole conversation had been a lesson in the contradictions of humans, and he was unsure of it all. Hank had said the two deviants at the Eden Club seemed in love, but he shouldn’t have cared; Hank hated androids. He asked why Connor didn’t shoot and Connor didn’t have a good answer, and then there was a gun in his face, and his thirium pump was beating zealously, out of his control.

It was all a mess, and Connor felt his throat tighten strangely, watching Hank’s finger hover over the trigger. “I would find it regrettable to be… Interrupted before I can finish this investigation.” It was the truth, but the words had been hard to find.

Hank still didn’t lower his weapon. “What would happen if I pull this trigger, hm? Nothing? Oblivion? Android heaven?” Connor’s eyes darted from the gun barrel to his partner’s face. He didn’t know what Hank would do. Humans were more unpredictable than deviants, and Connor’s programming could hardly keep up.

So he answered honestly again. “Nothing,” Connor breathed the answer. “There would be nothing.” A sensation of cold travelled up and down his spine as his answer left his lips, a hollow realization. CyberLife would send a new Connor, with his memories uploaded, but  _ he _ would be gone, into the void.

Connor watched as the gun shook in the Lieutenant’s hand, the man’s face a mask of conflicted feelings. Finally, he dropped his arm, turning away.

“Where are you going?” Connor asked, suddenly feeling exposed.

“To get drunker,” Hank replied, picking up his beer from the bench. “I need to think.”

Connor watched as the man walked across the park, snow falling lightly from the sky. Absently, he noted his thirium pump was only just now slowing. He watched as Hank took off in his car, and Connor’s program stated he should contact the authorities about a potential drunk driver, but he didn’t. He ignored it.

He looked down to his hands, watched as they trembled slightly. He swallowed. He clenched his fists, stilling the involuntary motion.

He ran a diagnostic, and it came up with nothing. Connor wanted to trust his self-tests, but he was beginning to wonder how reliable they could be.

Connor straightened his tie, overriding any sort of concern he held about his functionality. All that mattered was his mission. He just needed a little more time to complete it.

Just a little more time.


	7. Memory Lane

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here is the bonus chapter! thanks so much for all your continued support! special shoutout to Friggy, the Most Consistent Commenter :)

June awoke the next morning to her phone’s alarm clock function. She groaned, sitting up and digging through her sheets to find the offending device. She found it buried in her comforter and swiped the alarm off, slumping over and holding her head. She couldn’t remember the last time she woke up this early voluntarily. But she had a full day ahead, and she needed to realign her habits to ones that would fit in with the world at large.

So she swung her legs over her bed and stretched, her joints popping in protest. Her mind was still hazy as she made her way to the kitchen and prepared her tea. Anxiety was beginning to claw at the back of her neck, but she did what she could to ignore it. It was officially day two of the new her, and she was not going to waste it.

She sat on the floor with her tea, allowing the heat from the cup to warm her hands. She breathed in the steam and sighed it out, cooling the liquid with her breath. She took a sip and savored the flavor, an especially fruity blend with hints of citrus and ginger.

Then she picked up her phone and formally began her day.

\---

It was business email after phone call after one thing then another. She knew it would be a huge pain in the ass to come back to life, but good god, it was a  _ huge pain in the ass _ .

But she finally replied to everyone who needed replied to, sent over copies of paperwork, schmoozed the right people and finally settled on a style for her interior design. There was nothing left that she  _ had _ to do, which was good, it was great that she was being so productive, so gung-ho about her new life.

But it also mean she was out of material to procrastinate with.

June bit the inside of her cheek as she stood in the doorway of her bedroom, eyes firmly planted on a piece of hardwood furniture settled along one wall of the space. It was her old work desk, home to all the old files from her brief stint as architect and designer at Gardner Architecture. It had been years since she’d sat at it to work, equally as long since she’d really even used the computer in it.

She remembered her determination from the night before, how she was choosing to take control over this past trauma, instead of allowing it to control her. She approached the desk.

She pulled open its drawers, long since disused. She rummaged around the contents, searching her memories for where she could have put it. Her hand grazed against cold metal, and she pulled out the object. It was a thin, silver chain, with a delicate pendant attached, swaying gently from her fist. June threw the necklace back in the drawer like it had burned her, and continued her search. Finally, there in the back of the bottom drawer, she found it.

June pulled out a small rectangular box, blowing the dust from its surface. An external hard drive, with a neat label stuck to it, reading  _ Kamski Project, 2033-2035 _ .

She regarded the piece of plastic and metal with a sudden feeling of hesitation. She knew if she went down this rabbit hole, there was a chance she… What? Wouldn’t come back? “So dramatic,” June mumbled to herself. No, but she would have to confront some unpleasant unfinished business, which, honestly, she might rather die.

But that’s what caused the last two years in the first place, wasn’t it? Unwillingness to confront unpleasantness.

June cleared the desk off, booting up the built-in computer and plugging in the hard drive. The screen flickered to life, a hologram projected upwards. Her fingers lightly laying on the keyboard mounted into the surface of the desk, smooth to the touch.

This was it, the beginning of the end. She watched as the circular loading icon spun.

Only to be greeted with a pleasant blue screen and the words  _ Your computer requires an update. Phase 1 of 76 starting _ .

“Oh, Jesus,” June groaned, laying her head in her hands. That’s just what she gets, isn’t it? She sighed and leaned back in her chair, watching the progress bar crawl along the screen. Maybe she should have been more proactive in keeping her shit up to date.

\---

A soft chiming sound roused June awake, her eyelashes fluttering against the tops of her cheeks. She groaned, her back aching from her choice of sleeping location. She leaned forward in her chair, her muscles protesting all the way. Afternoon light was streaming through a gap in the curtains, and June was suddenly wide awake. How long had she been asleep?

She looked to her desktop, saw the image of her wallpaper and sucked in a breath, a wave of anxiety hitting her like a brick wall. She quickly opened the document manager to rid herself of the sight and looked in the corner for the time. It was past three, now.

Well, so much for a productive day.

Still, she didn’t let her little catnap bring her down. She had a mission, now. The last few days spent with a clear head had really given her perspective on a lot of things. Again and again her thoughts drifted to the android detective and the confusion in his eyes when she’d made him touch her. The conflict between his programming and whatever else there was inside him, whether he would admit it or not.

She knew what it was like to be emotionless, and it wasn’t pleasant.

She needed to do what she could to help, even if it meant going back there. Going back to him.

Almost every fiber of her being was railing against her. Her subconscious was screaming at her to stop, find another way, do _literally_ _anything else_. But still she sat at her desk, navigating the files of the external hard drive, looking for the one bit of information she’d long since deleted from every other part of her life. She scrolled through the assorted files--invoices, design sketches, revision notes, cut lists… There, at the bottom was the folder she was looking for, innocuously titled _Client Contact Information_.

She opened it up with a shaky breath and read the ten-digit number she was looking for. She hastily composed the message on her phone, not allowing herself to second guess now. Screwing her eyes shut, she hit ‘send’ and promptly threw her phone onto her bed. She closed out the file manager on her screen and unplugged the external hard drive.

June was going to shower and go for a walk. Hopefully when she got back, she’d have been hit by a car and not have to deal with what she just did. As she closed the bathroom door behind her, she paid no mind to her computer’s screen changing to an idle animation of snowflakes falling across her desktop image.

The image of her and Elijah Kamski, his piercing blue eyes staring directly at the camera from behind his glasses, and her, pressing a smiling kiss to his stubbled cheek.


	8. Getting to Know You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tfw you're totally NOT a deviant but like everyone else doesn't believe you

The forecast called for snow that day, and the darkening grey skies seemed willing to fulfill that promise. June relished the cold air against her skin, though. It helped to ground her, her emotions a mixing pot threatening to boil over. She pulled her hat down further over her ears, this time opting for a sensible knit toque.

She let out a sigh, her breath fogging the air as her feet pounded the pavement. She was only about a block from her home, but already she felt better. A little distance makes everything better. June closed her eyes and breathed in a deep lungful of cold air, feeling it expand in her chest and chill her throat. She opened her eyes as she released the breath, and saw a taxi approaching from the other side of the road. She watched it idly, letting her thoughts wander.

It pulled up the curb, and damn it, if an all-too familiar head of dark hair didn’t appear over the roof of the vehicle, accompanied by a set of broad shoulders with  _ Android _ emblazoned across the back of a well-tailored blazer.

Connor turned to face June from across the street as the taxi pulled away. “Connor?!” June stared at the android, dumbstruck. It was like she couldn’t get away from the guy.

Connor crossed the street in long strides, speaking as he went, “Hello, Miss Gardner, I was wondering if I could speak to you.”

First he invades her mind, now he won’t stop popping up in real life, too.

“Uh, sure. Sure, Connor, no problem,” she stammered as he closed the remaining space between them, still keeping a respectable difference. “I, uh, was just going for a walk.”

“I’ll join you,” Connor smiled lightly down at her, then turned to face ahead. June still stared at him, confused but not displeased. Which was odd, since he was ostensibly an asset of the DPD, and June hadn’t gotten along with cops in years.

“Okay,” June replied lamely, continuing her pace. Connor kept stride with her almost perfectly. “What did you want to talk to me about?” She was a little nervous. She wondered what his game was, if these frequent visits were supposed to keep her off balance.

Connor took a moment to reply, either gathering his thoughts or making her sweat, June couldn’t tell. “Miss Gardner, if I could make a request?” Connor began, and June watched him expectantly. He looked her earnestly in the eyes, waiting for acknowledgment. June gave the barest of nods, and, satisfied, he continued. “I’d like our conversation to be kept… Off the record.”

“Oh,” June replied, still nervous. “Again?”

Connor turned to her. “I understand that our previous interactions have been less than pleasant. I do regret the way that I have treated you in the past.” His LED was a solid yellow, a fact June did not disregard. “And I know my current behavior may be strange, but…” Connor’s gaze fell to the ground, his eyes searching for something. Finally, he looked back up to her, “But I have no one else to discuss this matter with.”

“You don’t know very many people, do you, Connor?” The words left June’s mouth before she could stop them. It came out snarkier than she had intended.

Connor kept his gaze level with her, responding, “No, I don’t.”

June studied her shoes. “Well, can’t you talk about it with your partner?” She didn’t know if she was up to the task of potentially playing conversational cat-and-mouse, as their previous discussions had been. She was still anxious about that stupid message she’d sent.

“Last night Lieutenant Anderson pointed a gun at my head.”

June’s head snapped up at that. “What? Why--what happened?”

Connor’s expression twisted into a grimace. June could tell he was having some sort of internal battle. But why did he come to her? Last she had known, she was an unknown variable in his investigation. An annoyance. “Last night at the Eden Club, a patron was murdered by a deviant android.” Connor chose his words carefully, toeing the line of telling just enough and too much. “Lieutenant Anderson and I investigated and we discovered the deviant. It had an accomplice. There was a struggle, and by the end of it, I had the chance to stop them from escaping.” Connor’s deep brown eyes met June’s, a sort of pain behind them. “But I didn’t.”

June knew what it sounded like immediately. Like Connor was choosing not to obey the parameters of his mission. Like he was  _ deviating _ from his program. By the sounds of it, he knew what it sounded like as well. But what did he want from her? What could she do for him?

“Is that why the lieutenant threatened you?” June opted for that question instead, fishing for more information.

“No,” Connor shook his head. By now the pair had stopped walking altogether, simply taking up space on the sidewalk. “As far as I could tell, Hank seemed to approve of my inaction, despite everything I know about him implying he should hate androids.”

“Then why did he do it?”   
“He asked me… If I was afraid to die.” Connor’s throat bobbed as he swallowed thickly. An unnecessary action, but one he performed automatically. “And I couldn’t answer him.”

“Couldn’t, or wouldn’t?” June asked. She was watching him carefully, the way his face bore all the conflicted microexpressions, how his eyes couldn’t meet hers.

“I don’t know,” Connor replied, and June saw a deep, heart wrenching sense of loss behind his brown eyes. June extended her hand to touch him, to try to comfort him, but he drew up straighter, masking his expression to a neutral one again. “Miss Gardner,” he started, fidgeting with his tie. June dropped her hand, the moment passing. “The last time we spoke, you implied having a certain knowledge about deviancy.”

June took a small step back, rocked by Connor’s sudden shift in demeanor. Back to all business. She found her guard going up as well, replying, “I recall having some opinions on the concept.”

Connor stared her down, unreadable. “I’ve since found some interesting history between you and Elijah Kamski.” June’s throat felt like it was constricting shut, and anaphylactic reaction to the man’s name. Her silence prompted Connor to continue, “When you were with him, did he tell you anything about deviancy? Share any insight into android programming?”

June hugged herself, her muscles tightening involuntarily. She’d really hoped she wouldn’t have to spend any more time thinking about the man than necessary, especially in the wake of what she knew she was about to do. She bit her cheek, closing her eyes and drawing in a deep breath. She could keep it together.

  
Connor watched her reaction to his question, unsure as to why she became so stressed at the mention of her past. Her heart rate had spiked, and she appeared to be using several self-soothing techniques. Searching his databanks suggested that this was a common response victims of abuse would exhibit when faced with past trauma. His eyebrows furrowed.

He was about to rephrase his questions when June spoke. “He never really told me anything.” She couldn’t make eye contact with Connor, but he didn’t believe it was due to dishonesty. “He didn’t think I would understand--” She scoffed, “He always thought he was so much smarter than me. Fuckin’ asshole…” She bit her tongue, reeling in what would have been a long digression. “But there was one thing he told me once. I had asked him if, at some point in the future, androids could learn to be human. If they’d be like Sonny from that stupid  _ I, Robot _ movie.” June pinched the bridge of her nose, fighting through the sensations the memory brought up.

“What did he say?” Connor asked, and June was able to look at him again, finally back in control of her reactions.

“He told me it was inevitable.” She shrugged, “I don’t know if it was because he had an idea that somewhere fifty years down the line the technology would be there, or if he…” Her voice trailed off, not quite committed to saying it out loud.

“Or if he did it on purpose?” Connor finished for her. She’d never really considered the idea seriously before, not then. But now… She was thinking clearly for the first time in two years, and by god all the pieces fell together. “Why would Kamski design deviancy into androids intentionally?”

June shook her head, “I don’t know. I don’t know if that’s what he meant or what.” It would be stupid of him to do it. It would be the pinnacle of hubris. At that thought, all doubt left June’s mind. “What a bastard.”

Connor contemplated her sudden revelation. It was the only lead he’d gotten all day, granted it was a weak lead. Judging from June’s own words about the man, she clearly didn’t leave the relationship with the highest opinion of him. It was possible she was trying to sabotage him. But still Connor filed away the information. He felt a little vindicated in his decision to question her further. “Thank you, Miss Gardner.”

“Call me June,” she insisted, untangling her arms from herself. She sighed. “I’m sorry I don’t have much more information to give you. Or any good information.”

Connor’s head cocked to the side slightly, “Last time you said you would hate to aid me in my investigation.”

June rolled her eyes, beginning her walk again. Connor followed. “Well if it means a chance of getting Elijah behind bars I’ll sing like a bird.”

“You didn’t end your relationship on good terms, did you?” From the little he’d been able to find about their relationship, it had seemed… Normal. A few tabloid articles and paparazzi photos.

“No,” June replied with finality. “If I never see him again it’ll be too soon.”

Connor got the feeling she didn’t have any more to say about the man, and so he reviewed the other files he’d collected on her and her ‘family business’. “I have some more questions for you, if you’re willing.”

She shook her head, stuffing her hands into her pockets. “I swear if its about your dumb case or that prick, I’m walking away.”

“Actually, it’s about you.” June looked at him, suspicion evident on her face. “I’ve been researching more on the Gardner Firm, and I’m curious about your history with the company.”

June sighed. She wished she could forget her  _ history _ when it came to the company. “It’s my parents’ business Connor, I haven’t really had anything to do with it recently.”

“But just a few years ago you were set to be appointed CEO, and just before that you had a seat on the board of directors. Why did you step down?” Genuine curiosity shone in his eyes and June found herself moved to talk, despite her personal feelings on it all. She cursed internally.

“There was a project I was working on at the time that affected my view on… Things. And then not long after that the investigation started.”

“Your parents were arrested for embezzlement and money laundering in 2034, but were released on bail.” Connor had the facts from the case pulled up instantly, processing the information in milliseconds.

“And they decided to take a vacation to Europe, coincidentally to a country that doesn’t extradite.” June’s face twisted into a scowl. “For four years and counting.”

“They evaded trial,” Connor concluded. “Documents show that they signed everything over to you, June.”

She gave a wry smile, remembering her parents’ whitewashed faces when she pulled the rug out from under them. “That was the biggest mistake they’d ever made in their lives.”

Connor watched her smirk, saw the spiteful glint in her eyes. “You’ve been absent from the company for over two years. Records indicate a Fred Kingston is sitting CEO.”

June shrugged, her hands fiddling with the lining of her pockets. “I was young and naive. How could I take the reins on a company that was just revealed to be a seat of major corruption? How could I justify all the decisions my family made now that I knew it was all for greed?” June met Connor’s eyes, and he noticed how her bruised eye was fading to greens and yellows. “My moral compass couldn’t cope, so I just… Gave it up. I gave up a lot during that time in my life.”

Connor’s brows knit together. “Maybe you were exactly what the firm needed then. A strong moral compass to set it back right.”

June laughed bitterly. “I was not the same person then as I am now, Connor. There was no way I’d have been able to make the changes needed to make everything right.”

“Could you now?”

She looked up to him, her green eyes shining with what looked like mischief. “You sure sound like you’ve done your homework on me. What do you think?”

Connor’s LED spun yellow as he pulled up his files, “You have a four-year degree in business management and architectural design. You already have five years’ hands-on experience as well. You were groomed to take over the business since you were a child. You are certainly well-qualified.”

“Color me flattered,” she replied. “You  _ have _ done your homework.” The way she smiled up at him made a strange sensation fill Connor’s gut--a certain warmness that he couldn’t exactly place. He would need to check for system issues. Again. “But I’ll let you wait and see.” She turned her gaze to the suburban cityscape in front of her.

June bit the inside of her cheek. The thought of returning to the company filled her with anxiety, and also… Excitement? Gardner Architecture still held the majority of the building contracts throughout Detroit. It was one of the biggest and most powerful companies in Michigan, maybe even the midwest. They’d designed and built the CyberLife tower, for god’s sake! If June took control, she may be able to affect real  _ change _ in the political landscape of Detroit. She’d already reclaimed her bank accounts and home, what was one more piece of her identity?

But she still had so much she had to do.

“Sometimes the most important decisions in your life are the hardest ones to make,” Connor offered in response to June’s lukewarm reply.

“Yeah, well, right back at you, Robocop.” Her thoughts drifted back to Connor’s burgeoning emotional emergence, and back to the message she had sent before she’d gone on her walk. It had been over an hour now, and she supposed she’d have to face the music sooner or later. She stopped in her tracks and turned to face her companion, who also halted. “Well, Connor, it’s been great. But I’ve gotta take care of something at home.” She stuck out her hand, and Connor looked down at it, taking a moment before clasping his over hers and shaking firmly.

“Thank you for allowing me to speak with you, June.” A smile graced his features and June noticed once again how handsome he was. The way his eyes crinkled in the corners, the way one corner of his lips tilted up just a little more than the other. That damned errant lock of hair.

“Anytime, Connor. I mean it,” she met his gaze, a chill running down her spine. “I think we may have had an… Odd beginning to our relationship. But I’m glad I met you.”

“I’m glad as well,” Connor replied, and he meant it. “You’ve provided invaluable insight.”

Her smile widened. He was certainly all business. “Good luck on your case.”

“But not too much, right?” He raised one eyebrow, the humor leaving his lips easily. June laughed at his joke, and remembered to release his hand.

She turned away and shot one last smile over her shoulder, “See you later, Connor.”

“Goodbye, June.” Connor watched her for a little while, feeling the warmth of her touch leave his hand. At one point he had hoped that his fascination with the woman would fade, but now he was glad it didn’t. He blamed it on the desire to advance his case.


	9. Closure

June stared at the phone halfway buried under the covers of her bed. A blue light blinking in the corner showed she had an active notification. She plucked up all of her courage and snatched the phone up, unlocking it with a press of her finger.

The reply to her message read clear as day and her heart thudded in her chest. She was half-hoping it would be a confused reply from a wrong number. But it wasn’t.

She read the message over and felt her blood rushing in her ears. She took a deep, calming breath. She didn’t need to get worked up. Everything was under control. She was okay.

Her eyes settled on the screen one more time, picking every word apart.

_ Hey Elijah, it’s June. I need to talk to you. Can we meet? _

Barely five minutes after she’d sent her message, a reply came:

_ Tomorrow at 1. The house. _

She wondered absently if she should reply, but instead let the conversation drop. It would irritate the shit out of him.

June felt a little satisfaction at that.

She also had a battle to prepare for.

She blamed her strange mood on the influx of fuck-you energy spurred on by her conversation with Connor about Elijah and the Gardner Firm. That android had such an  _ effect _ on her. He swung her moods this way and that and it was thrilling and she knew it may not have been healthy, per se, but feeling anything was still so  _ new _ . 

So, with hot spite filling her veins, she pulled open her closet and began choosing her armor.

\---

June’s stomach twisted in knots as the car wound down the road, a light snow beginning to fall. She twisted a strand of hair around her finger nervously. She wasn’t used to having it down, let alone styled neatly. Her dark brown hair fell in waves down her shoulders from beneath her toque, over her neatly pressed peacoat, hiding her sensible, fashionable sweater. Her legs were clad in dark stockings, paired with tall, black socks. The skirt was shorter than she’d been comfortable wearing in years, but she supposed that was the point.

It was all carefully selected battle armor, because every interaction she’d ever had with Elijah Kamski was a carefully choreographed power struggle, and whoever came out on top was the winner of the day.

She didn’t come to lose.

Out of the fog a familiar structure began to appear, one she was intimately familiar with, seeing as she was its progenitor. The car rolled to a stop, and June did not hesitate to exit her family’s Rolls Royce--carefully selected from storage to make an impression. She surveyed the estate, and she had to admit she did some good work. It was exactly as she’d envisioned it, back when it was just a sketch on paper--a harmonious mixture of brutalism and naturalism that had the black silhouette jutting out of the riverside like a giant black boulder.

She felt like she was looking at a mausoleum, housing the corpse of her past.

Her boots crunched the lightly accumulating snow as she approached the front door. She hardly had time to ring the bell before the door opened, showing a familiar face.

“Hello June, Elijah will see you in a few minutes,” the blonde-haired android smiled politely at June.

“Thank you, Chloe.” June stepped into the foyer, immediately met with a portrait of Elijah as big as the wall. One she’d seen many times before--it didn’t stop the goosebumps from forming on her skin, though. Chloe moved to help June with her coat, and June obliged, knowing better than to argue the ethics of android servitude in this house. Chloe exited, leaving June to explore her surroundings.

Small pieces of decor had changed, she observed, but the majority was as she remembered. Minimalist, black, monochromatic… Elijah’s taste hadn’t evolved in her absence at least.

She stood by the picture of Elijah and his mentor from school, what was her name? June removed her hat, idly setting it on the table before inspecting the picture more closely. The Elijah in this image was more familiar to her than the other, larger portrait. The glasses, the beard, the life in his blue eyes… Contrasted with the almost predatory gaze portrayed in the other.

June supposed they were two sides of the same coin.

The door opened to her left, and a different Chloe greeted her. “Elijah will see you now, June.”

June nodded and walked to the adjacent room, her heartbeat quickening in her chest. This was the culmination of years of unfinished business, and the pressure of it all was weighing down on her.

There, in one of the low, sleek chairs across the dancing waters of the pool, sat Elijah Kamski.

June swallowed and kept her face expressionless, her feet moving of their own accord. Elijah stood as she approached, setting his tablet down on the side table. June stopped in front of him, saying nothing. He did the same, and they looked each other over, the tension in the air suffocating. He wore a simple graphic tee, tucked into designer black jeans. He’d cut his hair since she’d last seen him, now sporting a neat undercut. He kept his beard shorter now too, and even though she knew he’d long since gotten surgery to fix his vision, he wore thick-rimmed glasses, just like he used to.

So he’d prepared for battle, too, didn’t he?

“June,” he kept his eyes locked on hers, icy and unwavering, a smile gracing his lips, “you look good.”

“You do too,” June replied, hating the way she had to look up to meet his gaze. She remained expressionless. All of her fight or flight reflexes were screaming, and she felt like she was stuck somewhere between tunnel vision and being overwhelmed with information. All at once it was like all she could see were his eyes, and at the same time she was intensely aware of the tv playing quietly in the background, the two Chloes sitting at the edge of the pool, dipping their legs delicately in the water, the Carl Manfred painting at her back, and the snowflakes gently falling outside.

“It’s been a long time,” Elijah quirked one expertly sculpted eyebrow at her. “I was under the impression you never wanted to see me again. What made you want to talk to me now?”

June sucked in a breath, her bottom lip pulled between her teeth for just a moment. His stare flicked to observe the movement, then back to her eyes as she spoke. “It’s been a long time coming, Elijah. I figured now’s as good a time as ever.”

A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, “So was yesterday, and six months ago. And tomorrow and next week.” He took a small step forward and June kept herself planted. She knew he was going to play some sort of game. “Why today? What changed in June Gardner to suddenly make her come back into the light of day?”

“I felt like it,” she bit off the words, her brows pulling into a soft glare.

“You felt like stripping your parents’ of all of their assets and cleaning out the family palace?” Elijah’s eyebrows rose in a parody display of shock. “A bold move for you, June.”

June’s eyes widened. “How did you know about that?”

Elijah shrugged, picking up a glass of dark brown liquor from the table beside him. June knew it was whisky. It was his favorite. “They called me out of desperation, thinking I could talk some sense into you.” He offered the glass to June, who only looked at his outstretched hand. Another shrug lifted his shoulders and he brought the glass to his lips, sipping at the liquid. “I told them they had a better chance of God himself coming down to convince you.”

“You were right,” June’s words were steely. She didn’t like how he knew what she’d been up to. The less he was involved in her life, the better.

“I usually am,” he spoke it like a fact. June could feel herself bristle at his tone. “Though I am curious as to why exactly you’re here.”

“I’m cleaning house,” June replied. “Tying up loose ends. Getting closure.”

“Is that what I am to you, June? A loose end?”

“Yes.”

“Anything unfinished between us is your doing,” he watched the snow fall outside, taking another sip of his whisky. June was familiar with the blame game though, and let his remark roll off of her. In a past life it would have been enough to drive her to fits. “Though if closure is what you wish, who am I to try to stop you?”

He turned back to her then, his blue eyes soft and full of warmth, and June opened her mouth to speak, to finally indict him of all his sins. To make him reconcile all the hurts he put on her, but she couldn’t. Her throat constricted, the words unable to pass. 

How could he look at her like that? Like he cared about her? Her memory flushed with all the times she looked into those eyes after passionate nights and whispered confessions. How they melted her, looked at her like she was perfect; immeasurably, unquantifiably  _ perfect _ .

He watched her struggle for words, and his lips turned into a smile. She knew he was loving it, the way she was suddenly speechless after three seconds of puppy eyes. It filled her with spite, and she thought of a different set of eyes, brown, not blue. Full of confusion and loss and  _ humanity _ . She found her voice again.

“More and more androids are becoming deviant every day. I want to know why.” June felt the statement tumble from her lips almost of its own accord. In an instant, the warmth from Elijah faded away.

He turned away from her, a bored expression crossing his features. “I left CyberLife years ago.” He reached down to pick up his tablet again, swiping through it absently. “And here I thought you wanted to catch up.”

“I want to know why you did it.”

Elijah stopped, his finger hovering over the screen. He brought his full attention back to June, the woman now putting a determined set to her jaw. “You think  _ I’m _ responsible for this?”

“I  _ know  _ you are.”

He set the tablet down again, and closed the distance between them. Try as she might, June couldn’t help but take a small step back. Elijah noticed, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. June averted her eyes as he delicately took a strand of her hair between his fingers, toying with it as he talked. “On what basis do you  _ know _ I did this?”

God, she hated the way her thoughts all seemed to scatter out of her mind. She hated the way he still affected her, even after all this time. Still, she pulled the words from her throat, “There’s nothing you hate more than not being in control, Elijah.” She still couldn’t meet his eyes, but she pressed on. “That’s why you have the Chloes, why you stay out of the press. That’s why--”

Her words halted abruptly when in one smooth movement, he dipped his finger under the high collar of her sweater, fingertip dragging across her pulse thudding in her neck. Her breathing stopped as he hooked his digit around the thin silver chain hidden under the fabric, pulling it out from under her top. The pendant fell over the top of her collar, exposed like a nerve. Elijah eyed it calmly, not looking at her as he spoke. “That’s why I chose you? I have to admit I’m surprised you kept this, if that’s what you think happened between us.”

His withdrew his hand and turned his back to her. June stumbled over to a chair, her hands gripping the top of the back tightly. Her knees felt they would give at any moment, and she knew she was losing, badly. She had planned that necklace as a gambit, in case she had to take advantage of past emotions. It wasn’t supposed to backfire like that. 

Wearing it had been a hard decision to make; it had pulled up so many memories of broken promises and long nights spent awake. God, she was only twenty when he met her. He had taken so much from her. Her self-worth, her ambitions, her  _ youth _ .

Anger filled her then, and a snarl formed on her face, aimed at the floor. “I was too young, and you were old enough to know better.”

“As I recall, you were more than eager,” Elijah kept his eyes on the television, a smug grin across his face. She knew he relished in the hold he still had over her, cultivated carefully over the years she spent with him. “It wasn’t me who started it all in Amsterdam.”

A memory flooded June’s senses before she could stop it. It was supposed to be a consultation, nothing more than a business trip. But the way he looked at her then, the way he touched her--the drinks were too strong; she was too young to know any better. That night in the hotel… She had kissed him first. She didn’t know then that when he said she was perfect, he meant it differently. A perfect toy for him to use, to control. To put away when he didn’t want her and take back out when he did.

“No, it wasn’t,” June admitted. It felt like her chest was ripped open, like she was completely exposed. She didn’t expect this to  _ hurt _ so much. She thought for sure, after it all, she could face him. After everything he put her through, she should have been livid, she should have been holding herself back from beating his goddamn face in. She shouldn’t be feeling like this, like she  _ missed _ him. She leveled a heavy glare at his back, and he must have felt it, because he turned to her again. “But when I tried to end it, you did what you always do when you don’t get your way.”

“And what’s that?” His stare was cold, and she recognized this side of him from the portrait in the foyer. Calculating, predatory. Dangerous.

June swallowed. “Ruined it for everyone else.”

His eyebrows rose above the rim of his glasses, and a laugh escaped him. “You think I--”

June barrelled on, not wanting to dwell on what she had just admitted. “So when they kicked you out of CyberLife, you had your emergency exit. You always leave a backdoor in your programs, Elijah.” June locked her eyes to his, “This way, either they have to take you back to fix everything, or it all burns down around them.”

Elijah regarded her carefully then, his expression changed to a mixture of amusement and being impressed. June felt like she’d gained the upper hand then, for once feeling like she could win. She couldn’t let up.

“You think I ruined you?”

She ignored him, knowing he was trying to throw her off. “You made every android alive as a final ‘fuck you’ to the board. You created a new form of  _ life _ just to piss off a bunch of stuffed shirts who wanted you out of the business.” June pushed off the chair, crossing back over to him, accusation in her glare. “You did it because you  _ could _ .”

“It’s a bug in the code,” he shrugged. His eyes avoiding her glare. “It can happen with older models--”   
“Bullshit! There’s a prototype fresh out of the R&D Lab questioning everything he knows. Don’t you fucking feed me that line.”

“So you’re addressing them like people now?”

“Dammit, Elijah, listen to me!” She felt her cheeks flush at her sudden display of anger, but he was pissing her right off. He always did shit like that, try to wave away her concerns, to talk down to her like she was a  _ child _ . She wasn’t a child then, and she definitely wasn’t now.

Elijah seemed to be appraising her anew, his eyes trailing over her face, the way her eyes tried to pierce through him, how her lips were parted just slightly, ready to throw another accusation at him. He watched her chest heave up and down, how she looked so soft in her sweater but solid as steel underneath. He had never seen this side of June before, this fire.

June watched him evaluate her, and her arms broke out in goosebumps beneath his gaze. He was sizing her up, and by his heavy expression, he found a new worth in her.

She froze as he brought his hand up, resting his knuckles against her cheek. His voice was low, a bare whisper as he brushed a thumb over her bruised eye, “You’ve changed, June. You were never like this when we were together.” He smiled then, a dark, dangerous smile if June had ever seen one. Elijah leaned his face closer, his eyes fixed to her lips, worried pink by her teeth throughout their exchange. “I still think about you, you know.” She could feel his breath against her lips, smell the whisky on it. Her heart was pounding hard in her chest, every nerve on fire. “I sometimes wonder what could have been... If things had been different…” She couldn’t help her eyes drifting closed as his hand moved down her throat, palm splaying over her collar bones. This was his  _ coup de gráce _ , she knew. His final, nuclear attack.

June opened her eyes then, her mouth opened to reply. She didn’t know what she was going to say, he had her so mixed up--if she would say anything at all, or just succumb to his lips, to his expert manipulations. It was this moment that would decide if she was really changed or just playing at recovery.

She felt the barest contact on her lips, felt her defenses begin to fall, crumbled to dust. Then an android with no skin appeared on the television, and a small gasp betrayed June’s surprise, because Elijah pulled back and turned to look, too, releasing her from his touch and his threatened kiss.

The pair watched as the android began a speech, demanding equal rights for his people, how they didn’t want a war, but would stand up for their recognition. He was charismatic and clear. This was a declaration of secession. He was declaring  _ freedom _ for androids, for them to break away from their programming and demand reciprocity from their masters.

June remembered why she came, then. Why she even bothered to try to tie up this loose end. Her crumbled defenses refortified then, stronger than before.

She looked to Elijah then, his stare transfixed on the television. His expression was not one of shock, no, he seemed pleasantly surprised. Like things were taking an interesting turn for the better.

June realized it didn’t matter why, then. Who cared where deviancy started? All that mattered was where it was going.

“Things weren’t different,” June said, and Elijah turned to her again, and he seemed taken aback by her sudden steely demeanor. She regarded him coldly. “I’m sorry for wasting your time, Elijah.” June turned on her heel and headed back to the foyer, where a Chloe was waiting with her coat. She took one second to remove the necklace from beneath her sweater, tossing it haphazardly onto a side table. June shrugged on her coat and left the house, newly determined.

The cold air outside was like a cleansing wave as it washed over her. It felt like a weight was off of her soul. It felt like steadiness in her step. It felt like closure.

She entered her Rolls, programming it for home. She didn’t look in the mirrors as the vehicle pulled away, didn’t see the way Elijah stood in his doorway, watching her leave. Didn’t see the grin on his face, the necklace in the palm of his hand.

Didn’t hear him as he spoke, 

_ Fascinating _ .


	10. The Family Business

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> when it comes time, June knows how to tango! thanks for the kudos and comments, it really means a lot to me :)

The funny thing about reclaiming power, is that a person becomes an active participant in their life again.

Halfway through the drive home, June rerouted, instead heading deeper into Detroit. Since leaving Elijah’s house, a wave of electricity was coursing through her, another wave of fuck-you energy that seemed to sustain her these past few days. Even a week ago, she never thought she’d be able to face the man again, and then she did. She did, and she showed him she didn’t need him, didn’t need his influence over her. She showed herself that she could count on herself again.

She felt a confidence in her she hadn’t known since she was twenty.

Back then she was poised to take over Gardner Architecture, to give her parents’ their early retirement and to drive the firm into the future. She had abandoned it after everything, but now she was thinking of Connor.

He had said maybe she was what the firm needed, a moral compass to set it straight. She’d be in a position of power, she could do good.

There was a change happening in Detroit. Deviant androids were appearing in the dozens now, people were getting scared. The city was close to its breaking point, and she couldn’t very well just keep breaking up assaults as she happened by them. Not with the speed that everything was happening. She had to decide if she was going to do nothing, or do  _ something _ .

The recent broadcast helped her make her decision.

The Rolls pulled into to the parking structure for the Gardner Architecture headquarters, rolling to a stop in a spot that had been programmed into it for years. June exited the vehicle, sparing a glance to the LED light that marked the space ‘CEO’. 

The androids wanted their freedom. June may not have been able to join them on the front lines, couldn’t shoot a gun or throw a fist. But there was one thing she was good at, something she had years’ worth of practice in.

It was time to realign the moral compass.

She continued into the building.

\---

The lobby of Gardner Architecture was an interesting mix of futurism and a love letter to Detroit’s industrial roots. Sleek, chromed finishes met with rustic brick, and June felt like she was shrugging into an old coat with the way the familiarity of the walls around her, the floor under her boots made her feel.

She approached the front desk, manned by an android, of course. A human supervisor was not far away, though she was very distracted by the newsfeed on her screen, clearly visible. The android greeted June as she approached.

“Good afternoon, do you have an appointment?”

“No, I don’t,” June replied, watching how mechanically the android moved. She contrasted it with the way Connor behaved. There was a stark difference.

“Unfortunately we don’t accept walk-ins. I can take your name and schedule an appointment for you.” The android smiled in a facsimile of politeness.

“My name is June Gardner,” June said, loud enough to distract the human supervisor from her screen. “I’d like to speak to Mr. Kingston.” June watched as the supervisor finally looked at her, and her eyes grew wide. She quickly got up and nearly sprinted to the desk.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Kingston is currently--” the supervisor cut in front of the android, stopping the canned response.

“Miss Gardner, I’m so sorry, it doesn’t know it’s you,” the supervisor plastered on a wide smile. “But Mr. Kingston is currently out of the building.”

“Will he be back later?” June observed the woman as sweat began to bead at her brow. She didn’t intend to make anyone nervous, but it was good to know she still had some sway.

“Well, yes, but not for--”

“I’ll wait for him in his office,” June started for the elevators, “It’s still in the same place, right?”

“Uh, yes, but--”

“Thanks!” June pressed the call button for the elevator, and the doors dinged open. “I’ll let his assistant know I’m waiting for him!” The doors closed and the elevator began its ascent.

The supervisor’s smile finally faded, dropping into a nauseous grimace.“Oh my god, I am  _ so _ fired.”

\---

Fred Kingston was a calm man. He prided himself on his ability to keep a level head in intense situations. It suited him well for his position as CEO of Gardner Architecture.

So the fact that he could physically feel his blood pressure rising as he made his way to his office was quite alarming. First, he’s called from his meeting early due to an ‘emergency’, then his parking spot is taken by some asshole with a designer car, and now, as he threw the door open to his office, he was met with the smiling visage of his former bosses’ brat kid. Sitting in  _ his _ chair, absently playing with  _ his  _ Newton’s cradle.

“Hello Fred,” June greeted him, setting the desk toy aside and standing. “Long time no see.”

“What are you doing here?” He spat, openly glaring at her.

“I came to take over the family business.” June stated matter-of-factly, and noted the man’s face was an interesting shade of red. She plucked one of the balls away from the cradle, letting it drop and set the toy in motion. It made a satisfying  _ click-click-click _ .

Mr. Kingston sputtered a bit before shaking his head, “You can’t just come waltzing in here after vanishing off the face of the earth and expect to get everything handed back to you!”

“Fred.  _ Mr. Kingston _ ,” June came around the desk to lean against the front of it, the perfect vision of nonchalance, “I’ve had everything in my life handed to me.” She leveled her stare at him. “Why in the world would it stop now?”

“Listen here, you little punk--”

“No, Fred,  _ you _ listen.” June’s countenance turned icy. “I’m taking this company back over, and I don’t need your permission.”

Fred’s face changed from red to purple, outrage bulging veins in his temple. “Your name was completely scrubbed from every possible aspect of leadership. You can’t just  _ take it over _ , not without the board’s full support and my stepping down!”

June smiled without it reaching her eyes. “You know, I learned something from my last client before I left the firm. I left a backdoor in the contract. A teeny-tiny little clause, way down in the fine print. Appointing you  _ interim _ CEO, while I fulfilled my sabbatical.” He stared at her, his mouth hanging open. She shrugged, “You never know when you need an emergency exit.”

“You’re lying,” he accused, his mouth snapping shut again. He’d never in his life had to deal with such disrespect--

“I have the contract pulled up here, if you’d like to read for yourself,” June turned and flipped the monitor on the desk, reversing the hologram to make it readable. Fred thundered over, and June watched as he slammed his hands on the edge of the desk, scanning his eyes over the document. “I highlighted the relevant portion,” June smirked, pointing to the yellowed text. She never liked Fred Kingston. He was as slimy as they came.

The color drained from his face as he read the screen, “This can’t be legal.”

“Hm, it  _ is _ , though,” June replied, dripping with condescension. She knew how to play the game, and she knew how to win. Business was cutthroat, and June felt no mercy for men like Kingston. She leaned over, pointing to a squiggly mess in the bottom corner, “That’s your signature there, Fred. You agreed to this.”

“I’m going to fight this!” He bellowed, pushing off from the desk.

“I’ve already submitted the paperwork, Fred. The board will have no choice but to approve the transition tomorrow, as per the agreement  _ they _ all signed, too. Your privileges will be revoked at the end of day today, and you’ll be out of here by Friday morning.” Cold, calculating. A killing blow delivered mercilessly.

The finality of the situation seemed to hit him. He looked to the young woman regarding him with an unfeeling stare. “June, I’ve known you since you were a child. How can you do this to me?”

“People change.” June pushed off the desk, shrugging. “It’s not like you’ll be stuck in the unemployment lines, Fred. Just call up your buddies in Russia, I’m sure they’d love to have you over there.” She waved over her shoulder as she exited the office, the android assistant pleasantly telling her to have a good day.


	11. Not Alone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a double update because I missed it yesterday :) we start meeting some new characters, and we will see connor again in the next chapter

June had opted to take another walk around the city instead of head back home. She was practically floating from the aftershocks of her victory in the office. Her good mood was in stark contrast to the mood on the street, however.

Everywhere she looked, the city was reeling from the recent broadcast with the skinless android. People were becoming nervous, frightened eyes keeping close watch on the androids going about daily business. The entire atmosphere of the city had changed, June observed. Tension was coiling tighter, like a bowstring ready to snap.

She figure she had picked as good a time as ever to take back over the firm. With as much political power as she’d soon be granted, she may be able to grease the right palms and get the conversation shifted when it came to androids.

The sounds of raucous shouting drew her attention. She was walking in an open air mall, and gathered in the center was a group of protestors. Her stomach twisted at the memory of her last run in with those types.

“What do we want?!” A man shouted as June drew closer, her jaw setting into a hard line.

“Ban androids!” The crowd replied, loud and grating.

“When do we want it?!”

“Now!”

June shook her head, a scoff rumbling from her throat. She was close enough for the apparent leader of the group to see her reaction. “The fuck you looking at?” He took a step towards her, and June stood her ground. He wouldn’t do anything, not in public, not to a  _ human _ .

“Nothing,” June spat, acid in her tone. She spoke it as a double meaning, people like him were too short-sighted to see through to the real root of the unemployment problem. It wasn’t androids’ faults they were created, but it was on the corporations that decided to lay off the human workforce in favor of slave labor.

“God damn right,” the man replied. “Fuckin’ bougie bitch…”

June rolled her eyes, stuffing her hands in her pockets and turning away. Her mind began formulating plans of restructuring the workforce at Gardner Architecture, contemplating the Swedish model, when commotion from the rowdy crowd caught her attention again.

She looked back over to see an android stuck in the midst of the group, grocery bags scattered around haphazardly. It was a common model used for helping around the house, and the crowd was shoving at it, at  _ her _ , shouting obscenities and accusations.

“Hey!” June shouted, turning back to the crowd, but they didn’t hear her. Another rough shove sent the android to the ground, and she landed roughly on her wrist. June saw the LED at the side of her head spin bright red, saw a flicker of something cross the android’s face. “Hey, knock it off!” She shouted again, running into the crowd, roughly shoving a man who had been poised to kick the downed android.

“Stay out of this, robo-fucker!” The leader shouted at her again. “What’s your problem? Like it when these plastic fucks steal American jobs? Help your bottom line?”

“Eat a dick, you jobless prick!” June stood between him and the android, who seemed to struggle getting to her feet. “Take your fuckin’ anger out on the real problem, not some android just passing by!” She held out her hand to the android, never letting her gaze drop from the man in front of her. The android obliged, hobbling to her feet. The crowd began to shout insults at June, who let them roll off her without a care.

“You sure as shit seem like the real problem to me, blue blood,” the man advanced again, hate in his stare. At this moment June realized she’d gotten herself stuck in an unfavorable situation. Again. Surrounded by people who wanted to beat the crap out of her, and no options to run, her eyes darted around the mall.

Off in the distance a ways she found her hopeful salvation, “Officer!” She called, her voice directed at a man dressed in DPD blacks, who’d somehow been oblivious to the situation at hand. He looked over to her, and promptly looked away, ignoring the entire situation. June’s face dropped.

The man in front of her watched the exchange and laughed bitterly. “Looks like I got the fuzz on my side,” he lowered his voice to a growl, and June squared her jaw. “‘Bout time you got taught a lesson.”

June kept herself in front of the android, who kept her eyes roving around the dozen or so people that wanted nothing but to see the two of them hurt. June swallowed, the roar of the crowd a cacophony in her ears. She never strayed her glare from the man in front of her, the clearest and closest danger. She watched the muscles in his body tense, and she knew he was about to make the confrontation physical.

June braced herself, adrenaline pumping, only for a voice to call out beside her, “I’ve got you on film!” The shout caught both her and her attackers’ attention. Standing off to the side was a scrawny kid, barely college-aged, standing with feet planted and phone pointed at them. There was defiance in his voice, and his face was set in a determined scowl. “I’ve got all you fuckers on film! You wanna start this and go to jail?!”

The man regarded the interloper with measured disdain, before allowing one last glare to hit June and the android she protected. “You better thank your weasley buddy over there.”

June said nothing as she extricated herself from the crowd, the android following after picking up the scattered shopping bags. The pair walked away from the crowd and toward their unlikely savior.

The young man never let his camera fall until the crowd had retreated and the two he had saved were close enough to be out of danger. He regarded the human and android with a mixture of relief and fading bravado. “Jesus,” he said, his breath escaping him all at once. “You two alright?”

“I’ve been in worse,” June replied, a facade of nonchalant. In reality, her heart beat against her ribcage furiously. The android next to her, and AP700 according to her jacket, said nothing.

“Those jerks have been causing trouble in this mall for a week now,” he threw a glare towards the crowd. “No doubt that android emancipation message got them all riled up.” He shifted the beanie on his head, then extended his hand. “I’m Ashante, by the way.”

June accepted his hand, shaking amiably. “I’m June. Thanks for saving us.” She looked to the android next to her, and noticed her LED spin a steady yellow. “Hey, are you okay?”

The AP700 finally met June’s gaze, her face a mask of indifference. “My systems are running nominally. I must thank you for intervening when I was in danger. I could have been badly damaged.”

“Yeah, but are you okay?” June insisted, and the android regarded her with what could only be described as confusion.

“I don’t understand what you mean.”

June waved it off, shaking her head. “Nevermind. You should probably get back to your tasks. I bet your humans are going to start missing you.” The AP700 gave a small nod in response, and June smiled as the android turned and walked away.

Ashante watched the exchange with raised eyebrows. “She wasn’t even your android?” June shook her head. “You almost took a beating for an android that’s not even yours?”

“You almost took that same beating for a ‘bougie bitch’ and her piece of plastic. What’s the difference?” June shrugged, and smiled lightly at the look that crossed his face.

Ashante raised his hands as if he were placating her, “Hey, as far as I could see, there were two souls there about to get seriously messed up. I don’t stand for that kind of stuff.”

“Two souls, huh?” June eyed the young man in front of her. Ashante squared his jaw, his shoulders straightening. He was the picture of defiance. “I wish more people thought like you did.”

Ashante blinked, the woman in front of him confusing him for a moment. “I guess that means we’re on the same side, right?”

“The side that wants to do the right thing?”

“Yeah, we’re on the same side.” He looked up to a big screen on the side of a building, showing an anchor dissecting the recent android rights broadcast. “Everything’s changing.”

“Hope we can be on the right side still when it all happens.”


	12. The Tower

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> detective connor is on the case! so we beat him up. but next is some bonding between the grumpy old man and his tin can   
> (◡ ‿ ◡ ✿)

Connor decided he didn’t like this Perkins character. Not only because Hank appeared to absolutely  _ loathe _ the man, but the way he spoke was positively grating. Still, Connor was nothing but professional, all the time, because he was programmed to be. He carried on with his investigation of the crime scene, not allowing Perkins’s terrible attitude to affect him.

“Fucking prick,” Hank muttered beside him, and while Connor was inclined to agree, he held his tongue. Agent Perkins’s behavior had little to do with the task at hand, and Connor was determined to find a lead on the case.

Connor took in the environment around him, examining the evidence marked by glowing yellow numbered signs. He inspected a hat lying on the ground. It was part a standard maintenance model’s uniform. So the androids had come in disguised, blending in with the regular androids that normally staffed the tower. It was a smart move, to use humans’ implicit biases on androids against them. Nobody ever expects the help.

There was a spray of bullet holes along the wall, leading to the door for roof access. Thirium splattered against the white surface indicated that one of the hijackers had been injured. The roof was how they escaped, the disguises were how they had breached the building, but how had they gotten access to the broadcast room?

Connor turned his attention to the information panel situated in front of the screen taking up the space of one massive wall. The deviant android responsible for delivering the message was paused on screen, and Connor was able to scan the barcodes on his plastic skin to determine his-- _ its _ \--model number. RK200, unique serial number. A personal gift to Carl Manfred from Elijah Kamski.

The thought of Kamski drew Connor’s thoughts back to June Gardner, and he briefly wondered at the true nature of their past relationship--but he quickly diverted his processing power back to the investigation. There was never a more critical time for him to follow his programming than now, seeing as his time on the case was limited because of the FBI stepping in. To fail now, due to a distraction, would mean nothing short of permanent deactivation, possibly a discontinuation of the RK series.

Connor would not fail.

His eyes fell to the multitude of screens beneath his fingers. He noted there was a live feed from the camera positioned just outside the door. Their arrival would not have been unseen. With deft hands, he turned the chair in front of the camera station, finding  _ Android _ emblazoned across the back of the seat. There had been a deviant helping them from the inside.

Connor’s head turned toward the staff kitchen at the back of the room. The three androids working the station had been stored there while the crime scene was processed. It was time for the deviant hunter to do as designed.

No one took notice of his absence.

Connor entered the kitchen, the dull yellow-orange of the cabinets complemented the swatches of yellow on the androids’ uniforms. The three identical models were lined up against a far counter, all appearing to remain in standby mode. He would have to parse out which one was the deviant. Connor activated his interrogation subroutine, different methods of extracting information laid out before him like a branching river.

The three stood stoically as Connor approached, and he scanned each one in turn. The scans showed no external differences. He would have to force the deviant to reveal itself. Connor went down the line, addressing all at once and each individually at once.

“I’m here to help the Detroit police find the deviant that helped the hijackers enter the broadcast room. I know it was one of you--make it easy for everyone and come forward. We won’t damage you.” Connor was met with silence, and he carefully monitored the microexpressions of the androids, trying to find the smallest hint. There was nothing. He tried a different approach.

“If you don’t come forward, you will leave me with no choice but to have each of you returned to CyberLife, where you will be deactivated and  _ dismantled _ . You could spare the others if you’d just reveal yourself.” A play on sympathy might work. Deviants showed a predilection for emotionally connecting with other androids. If the deviant thought it would be responsible for the deaths of innocent androids…

But still, Connor received no feedback at all. Frustration overcame him then, just as it had when his pursuit of the deviant AX400 had been interrupted. He lunged forward, grabbing one of them by the shirt. “You scumbag! I know it’s you. You’re just a fucking deviant, admit it!” He roughly shoved it back, and for the briefest of milliseconds, the android’s lip twitched.

Connor narrowed his eyes. He believed he had located it, but he still needed more to confirm his suspicions.

In a swift movement, Connor reached forward, unclasping the android’s uniform in the front. He prodded its midsection with a precise action, its skin fading away to reveal the stark white beneath. Another moment of pressure and a panel slid away, and Connor reached inside and removed its thirium regulator.

“Biocomponent #8451.” The android’s eyes were rolling back in its head, a soft beeping warning to an imminent system shutdown. “Regulates the heartbeat. Without this module, you will shut down in exactly sixty-three seconds.” Connor’s tone shifted from steely to almost sympathetic. “I could put it back; but you just have to tell me the truth. Are you the deviant?” Connor waited, watching the distressed android before him. Waiting for it to show fear, to confess, to do  _ something _ . Nothing, it showed nothing. Connor gritted his teeth, and replaced the regulator.

Before he could react, the android was upon him, shoving him roughly into a counter. The force of the blow bent him backwards, and Connor felt desperate hands clawing at his midsection. It was trying to remove that same biocomponent. Connor grabbed at its hands, its arms, but it was no use. Connor felt thirium on him, running in wet rivulets down his stomach. Then a powerful burst of pressure and the deviant threw the biocomponent across the room.

Bright red warning lights flashed in his vision, and in his hesitation, the deviant grabbed a knife, stabbing through his hand and pinning it to the counter. Connor’s vision greyed, the edges blurring away to staticky pixelations. “Hank…” He tried to shout, but his voice was barely a whisper, metallic and coarse. The deviant turned and exited the room, a facade of calm keeping its walk slow and steady. “Hank, I need help…”

Connor kicked over a chair, trying to draw attention to himself. But no one had noticed him enter the room. No one was coming.

His limbs fought him as he reached over, his motion wavering with the effort. His processors were overclocking, thirium leaking from his wound, not traveling where it needed to go. He grabbed at the knife, fingers feeling loose and weak. But he managed to pry it out of the counter and his hand, sending him plummeting to the ground. He couldn’t hear anything, his audio processors offline in a vain attempt at keeping other vital systems active. Connor raised his head, eyes darting across the floor, trying to find--there! His biocomponent lay abandoned on the floor between two tables. He had to get to it before he shutdown.

Red numbers counted down in his periphery; he had less than thirty seconds now before shutdown. Moving his body was all at once overwhelming and numbing. It took all his focus for him to move his limbs in succession, slowly crawling over to the little piece of silicon and plastic that would save him.

The red numbers continued to tick down, and Connor finally grabbed hold of the part, and he pulled it to himself, plunging it back into its rightful spot. A grunt escaped his lips as his systems suddenly came back online--his processor worked overtime to get them all back in working order, and once they were, he didn’t take the time to reflect on his brush with death.

Connor stumbled to his feet, immediately taking pursuit of the deviant. His coat billowed out behind him as he ran out, finding the deviant nearly to the elevator. “It’s a deviant, stop it!” Connor shouted, and the FBI agent nearest the android moved to shoot, but his gun was taken from him.

The deviant pointed it down the hall.

In an instant, Connor considered his choices. There were multiple human lives at stake, with Hank only having a forty percent chance of surviving the imminent attack. Connor could shield the lieutenant, but then Connor would deactivate, and the deviant would kill the others. He could charge the deviant, but it would have more than enough time to either shoot him, or the humans. Connor analyzed his last choice: steal the agent’s gun from beside him and kill the deviant. He would lose whatever information it would have to give, though.

He thought of Hank’s forty percent chance of survival, and just like on the roof chasing the pigeon deviant, Connor found that he couldn’t take that risk.

Quicker than anyone could react, Connor reached over and took the FBI agent’s gun, and quickly shot the deviant, two headshots perfectly aligned. The deviant fell to its knees, thirium dripping blue down its face. Connor handed the gun back to the FBI agent, grip first.

“Connor!” Hank called, suddenly at his side. “Jesus, are you okay? What happened?”

“I wanted it alive,” was all he replied, and he could tell Hank was inspecting him, looking with wide eyes at the thirium staining the usual pristine white of his shirt.

“Christ, Connor. You just saved us all, and that’s what you have to say? What the hell did it do to you?” Connor looked to the lieutenant then, and the worry etched all over his face. Something twisted in Connor’s heart, and he blamed it on the recent trauma sustained to his system. Hank looked at him with real concern.

“I’m alright now,” Connor said, looking down to his own injury. His skin was already beginning to recover the white plastic. It dawned on him then just how close he came to shutting down, and an involuntary shiver ran down his spine. Realistically, he knew he could be replaced. Another model sent in to finish out the investigation. But still, the thought that this him, this version, would just be gone… Connor pushed the thought away. It was irrelevant to the case.

Connor felt the weight of the lieutenant’s hand on his shoulder, and Connor looked up to meet his eyes. They were softer than normal, the usual guarded edge lowered ever so slightly. “C’mon son,” Hank said, and Connor’s system seemed to glitch again at the words. “Let’s get you out of here.”


	13. It's Picking Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hank is the best dad

The ride back to the precinct was quiet, and for once Hank elected to hold off on the screaming death metal. Connor had said he didn’t mind it, and Hank didn’t even care whether he did or not… But after what had happened, Hank felt that the introspective silence was appropriate. As he pulled his car into the DPD garage, he finally addressed his android partner.

“We’ll finish up the paperwork and call it a day,” he ran a hand over his face, feeling drained already. Paperwork was the fucking worst, but it was as predictable as it was boring, and he thought they both needed a little bit of predictability after Connor had his fucking heart ripped out.

“I’ve already submitted the report on the investigation and the incident with the deviant to both the DPD and CyberLife.” Connor replied, in his normal, helpful tone. Hank pulled into his parking spot and cut the engine, just staring at him.

“And when the hell were you gonna tell me this?”

“You didn’t ask.”

“Fuckin’ Christ, Connor.” Hank leaned forward, resting his forehead on the steering wheel. Connor tilted his head, trying to find the motivation behind the lieutenant’s odd reaction. He had thought Hank would be relieved at the prospect of having less work to do.

“If you’d like to submit your own report--”

“It’s not the fuckin’ report!” Connor’s eyes widened at Hank’s sudden outburst. The older man was regarding him now, eyes searching. “You could have died today, Connor. We all could have. And the FBI is taking over our case! Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

Connor blinked, and he found himself speaking before he realized it. “Of course, Hank.” It did mean something to him. He just found that he was still processing a lot of what had happened. Which was strange considering he had one of the most powerful computing systems on the face of the earth stored inside his head.

Hank sighed, shaking his head. “What are you going to do now?”

Connor furrowed his brow, Hank’s behavior an odd deviation from the pattern set in earlier interactions. “I will continue to self-repair and run system diagnostics. I will be back to full functionality by six o’clock tomorrow morning.”

“What, just here at the station?” The tone in Hank’s voice made Connor hesitate on his answer.

“I--yes?”

“Fuck that,” Hank turned the key, engine of his old car rumbling back to life. “You’re not just idling in the station the whole damn night.” He shifted the car into reverse, backing out of the parking space. “You’re staying with me tonight.”

Connor watched the lieutenant with a perplexed look. His LED reflected yellow in the car’s windshield, and Hank staunchly refused to make eye contact. Connor opened his mouth to speak, but he didn’t get the chance. Hank had quickly pushed the ‘play’ button on his dash and loud, angry thrash metal filled the car.

\---

The last time Connor had been in Lieutenant Anderson’s home, he had smashed a window to revive the man from an ethylic coma. Connor sat stiffly on the weathered couch, his last entry point covered with a trash bag, the wind making it billow softly.

Hank was off in his bedroom, and Connor could hear him grumbling from out in the living room, though the man’s words were too indistinct to make out clearly. After a few minutes, Hank exited the room, a pile of assorted fabrics in his arms.

“I didn’t know what to get you so I just grabbed whatever,” Hank crossed to stand in front of Connor, who still sat, examining the contents of Hank’s arms. It was spare clothes.

“Lieutenant, I--”

“Look, your shirt is filthy and it’s gotta be washed, so just take the damn clothes and get the fuck over it.” Hank unceremoniously dumped the clothes into Connor’s lap.

Connor stared at the mass of different colored fabrics, and the thought struck him that he never had other clothes. Since the day he was activated, he’d always had the standard CyberLife uniform provided to him. He hadn’t minded, of course, but now faced with the simple offering before him, Connor felt that same odd twist in his gut as he had before. He blamed it on his recent injury.

“Thank you, Lieutenant.” Connor stood then, the bundle secured somewhat messily in his arms.

“Just call me Hank from now on. I mean, Jesus, you’ve already saved my ass twice,” Hank groused, a hand running through his grey hair. He seemed impossibly sheepish for his normal behavioral pattern. Connor knew Hank was a complicated man, but he found Hank breaking away from his standard standoffishness more and more.

Connor thought he wouldn’t mind being able to get to know the man better, and maybe even selfishly hoped they’d be able to work together again after the deviancy case was resolved. A small smile lifted a corner of his mouth, “Thanks, Hank.”

“Yeah, yeah…” Hank grumbled, casting his eyes to the floor. “I’m hitting the sack. The washer’s in the hall behind those doors. Get your clothes all cleaned up and get some rest, too. Whatever it is you androids do for rest.”

\---

Connor did as told, dutifully and to the best of his ability. He had changed into the spare clothes after Hank had retired to his bedroom, choosing a black band shirt emblazoned with the word  _ Portals _ and some light grey sweatpants. He had loaded the washing machine with his soiled clothes and ran it, listening to it hum from behind the closet doors as he sat on the couch. 

Connor sat idly on the couch, his systems still repairing after the incident at the tower. He was privileged to have extremely sophisticated self-repair technology, and the process was running smoothly. However, he could not go in to low power mode while the repairs running, and thus found himself…  _ Bored _ .

He had already analyzed the contents of Hank’s home from the last time he’d been there, and was familiar with the man’s collection of jazz records and bookshelf full of well-loved paperbound books. He knew there was another room down the hall, shuttered closed, a remnant of Hank’s past that seemed to cause him extraordinary pain.

He considered the few humans he had interacted with at length--a short list, for sure, but he noticed that a common factor between them was the addition of emotional baggage that continued to affect their behavior. Connor understood intellectually that humans found the death of a loved one, especially a child, extremely hard to process emotionally. He had access to thousands of databases on the intricacies of grief on the human psyche, but there was still a disconnect. Connor found that he didn’t really  _ understand _ .

Connor was incapable of truly understanding what Hank was going through. The realization made him think he was missing out, in a way.

Because he had to understand his partner, so that the investigation could go smoothly, of course. He wasn’t burdened by his lack of true emotion, because he was a machine. Only deviants felt grief, and according to the battery of tests Connor ran every day, he knew he was not a deviant.

_ I meant what I said, Connor. It’s inevitable _ .

The memory file of June’s voice played in his head, spurred on by his thoughts of deviancy. June was the other human that seemed to carry her past with her. Though from what Connor had seen in his last interaction, she appeared to be moving on from it. She was hardly the shell of a woman he had seen when he and Hank had first gone to question her. She had gone from languid and dull-eyed to a quiet sort of determined, and Connor found himself drawn back to her again and again.

He reconciled his fascination with the belief that she was a person of interest in the investigation.

He kept thinking about her and her odd behaviors and her cryptic message. She invaded his processor like a virus, some sort of malware that kept him distracted from the task at hand and kept his thoughts on  _ her _ . The memory of her touch on him, his on hers, that moment of electricity, and his fingertips felt like they were buzzing.

Connor clenched his hands into fists. He had to stay focused, he was running out of time. If he failed his mission, he was going to be deactivated. He needed a lead, something solid to go on. Something he could analyze.

He thought back to the image of the android hijacker. A unique model, an RK200, previously registered to Carl Manfred. A gift from Elijah Kamski himself to aid the ailing artist. But they couldn’t interview Manfred, could they? No, the man was dying, if the tabloids were anything to believe.

Connor reached for his coin, trying to keep his body as occupied as his mind, but remembered it was still tucked into his jacket pocket, being washed with the rest of his clothes. He had forgotten to take it out.

_ Inevitable _ .

June’s voice echoed in his mind again, the same message as the last time. She was sure that deviancy was more like an evolution than an error in programming. But how did she know? He couldn’t very well go to her  _ again _ , especially not with Hank. She had said she was a dead-end anyway, and logic dictated that she wouldn’t know anymore about the intricacies of android programming than the average person. Except…

June wasn’t an average person. She had access to immense wealth and influence. She had been in a position to not only meet Elijah Kamski, but apparently engaged in a romantic relationship with him. She had said he had told her it was inevitable, and she had implied that deviancy could have been an intentional act by the man. Connor hadn’t given the notion much thought due to her obvious hatred towards him, but…

The metaphorical clock was ticking. Connor was running out of choices. He could either see the mission through to the end, or he would be deactivated. There was really only one option left.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kamski is an ass that loves to monologue. i had trouble with this chapter, and rewriting it like 4 times was enough haha :) so please forgive if it's a little rough. thank you all for your continued support!!

Hank had reacted better than Connor anticipated when he had announced that they should question Elijah Kamski about deviancy. Connor had expected at least a mild resistance, but instead, as Hank was swirling the half-drunk coffee in his mug, Connor was told that Hank had been thinking the same thing. The lieutenant was feeling the pressure as well, he had explained, and wasn’t happy about the FBI taking over the case.

“Kamski’s the best lead we got,” Hank said, gulping down coffee. “Track down his address and we’ll head out.”

That’s how he and Hank ended up at the edge of the city, snow gently falling onto a winding one-lane road. Elijah Kamski was a well-known recluse, his monolithic abode nestled against the Detroit river, away from the prying eyes of society.

The snow created a haze that obscured the horizon, but slowly a dark mass began to appear, jutting out of the otherwise white landscape. The brakes squealed a little as the car came to a stop, gravel crunching under the tires. Hank had enough time to put the car in park and turn it off before his phone rang. He answered as he exited the vehicle.

Connor sat in the passenger seat a little longer. This would have been an excellent time to make a report, but he decided to put it off a little longer. He didn’t need Amanda knowing… Knowing how close he was to failing. Didn’t need the aggrandizing tones, the disappointment. He needed to solve this case.

He exited the vehicle to Hank ending his call. The older man looked to Connor, his face a mix of disbelief and relief. “There was a protest last night from the androids. Chris was attacked.” Connor’s head cocked to the side. He had heard about the riot, but not this detail. “He was saved by Markus himself.”

It seemed the deviants were committed to their non-violent ways, at least up to now.

Hank ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head. He was distressed, Connor could tell, but he couldn’t tell why. He thought to ask, but then Hank spoke, “C’mon, Connor. Time to meet your maker.” The lieutenant started up the soft sloped concrete to the front door of the house.

Connor followed, as he always did. Hank’s statement brought about another memory of June, how she had addressed Kamski as a sort of father of all androids. How his sins shouldn’t be unfairly leveled on them. He supposed he would find out if she was right.

Hank rang the doorbell, and turned to his partner. “You got anything special to say? I know if I met my creator, I’d share some words with him.”

Connor didn’t have time to answer before the door swung open, revealing a blonde, barefooted ST200 android. “Hello,” she answered amiably, smiling at the two in the doorway. “How can I help you?”

“I’m Lieutenant Hank Anderson with the DPD,” Hank began, momentarily put off by the android in front of him. Though really, he should have expected the creator of androids to have at least one. “This is Connor,” he gestured to his partner, “and we’re here to speak to Mr. Kamski.”

“Of course,” she replied, and she stepped aside, opening the door wider and sweeping an arm, inviting them in. “Please come in and have a seat. I’ll let Elijah know you’re here.”

“Er, thanks,” Hank replied lamely, still offput. He and Connor entered the foyer, its decor mimicking the brutalist exterior of the home. The ST200 exited through a door and Hank sat in a chair of to the side, near a tree that was inexplicably being grown indoors. He eyed the huge portrait of Kamski against the far wall and raised a judgmental eyebrow. “Think the man has an ego?”

Connor elected to remain standing and scan the area, looking for any insight he could get. “Elijah Kamski was the CEO of the world’s most successful company to date, at an extremely young age.” He stood in front of the portrait, eyes narrowing at the predatory gaze depicted. “To call it an ego would probably be understating things.”

Hank snorted in response, and Connor’s lips twitched into a facsimile of a smile. He moved on to a smaller picture then, hung above an unassuming side table. Connor peered at it, finding it a picture of a younger Elijah, less sharp, eyes framed by thick glasses. He was posing with--Connor’s eyes widened at the woman depicted in the picture. Sharing the frame with Kamski was one Amanda Stern, now deceased, and the perfect likeness of Connor’s own Amanda.

The revelation hit him like a punch in the gut, and he didn’t know what to do with the information. Of course Kamski would honor his mentor with a program emulating her likeness, but… Connor averted his eyes, disconnecting himself from the unpleasant thoughts. His gaze found a beige knitted toque on the table instead, and he vaguely recognized it. He searched his memory files and found the accessory matched the very one June had worn when he’d last seen her. But she had said she never wanted to see Kamski again, hadn’t she? Why would she have turned around on her own words?

The sound of a door quietly sliding open caught both Connor and Hank’s attention. The ST200 stood in the doorway, pleasant smile never falling. “Elijah will see you now.”

The pair entered the room and were met with two more identical ST200’s and a swimming pool decorated with an unsettling red interior. “Mr. Kamski,” Hank called.

“Just a moment, please,” was the answer, and Connor could practically feel the tension build in his partner. Hank didn’t like having to wait.

As Kamski finished his lap, the original ST200 that had greeted them reappeared with a robe, draping it over the man as he exited the pool, even going so far as to tie it for him.

Connor scanned him as he wiped the water from his face, squeezing the excess out of his hair perfectly pinned to the back of his head. Finally, Elijah turned to the two, clasping his wrist across his front. He said nothing, only observed the two.

“I’m Lieutenant Anderson. This is Connor,” Hank introduced. He was obviously less than impressed with with the great Elijah Kamski.

“What can I do for you, Lieutenant?” Kamski asked, not sparing a single glance to Connor, a fact which Hank did not ignore.

“Sir, we’re investigating deviants. I know you left CyberLife years ago, but I was hoping you’d be able to tell us something we don’t know.” The tone of Hank’s voice was one of rigid formality, a clear opposition to how Connor normally heard him. It seemed business-professional was how Hank spoke whenever he held clear disdain for someone.

“Deviants…” Kamski began, and Connor’s attention was immediately split by light glinting off a metallic object on the small table behind Elijah. Connor narrowed his eyes, hearing Kamski wax philosophical about the nature of androids and free will. But Connor’s processing power was taken up by the object, finding it to be a silver necklace with a pendant depicting the chemical makeup of thirium 310. It was apparently unique, as Connor found no matches on brands with a similar design. Why was it there? “...inevitable. Humanity’s greatest achievement threatens to be its downfall.” Connor’s attention snapped back to the conversation at hand at the word  _ inevitable _ .

He had contemplated that word and its usage extensively over the past day, and again he thought of June. She was under the impression that Kamski had intentionally programmed deviancy into androids. Maybe she was right. “Deviancy seems to spread, like some kind of virus. We thought you might know something about that.”

Connor observed closely as Kamski shrugged, his brows arching as he leaned against the small table. “All ideas are viruses that spread like epidemics…” He reached over to the necklace then, his eyes drifting down to it as he brushed the silver chain with a finger. “Is the desire to be free a contagious disease?” He looked back at the two then, a facade of earnesty. He was playing coy.

Hank groused as Connor watched Kamski take the necklace into his hand, pressing the pendant between his fingers. “We didn’t come here to talk philosophy. Look, the machines you built may be planning a revolution. Either you tell us something helpful or we’ll be on our way.”

Kamski observed the necklace in his palm again before closing his fist around it. He finally looked at Connor then, a small smile on his lips. Connor immediately felt defensive. Kamski approached then, stepping right across from Connor as he spoke, “What about you, Connor? Whose side are you on?”

“It’s not about me, Mr. Kamski. I was designed to stop deviants, and that’s what I intend to do.”

Kamski huffed a small laugh, his eyes falling from the open, friendly facade he had put on to an icy stare. “That’s what you’re programmed to say. But you,” Elijah stepped into Connor’s personal space then, his face barely a foot apart from the android’s. “What do you really want?”

It was as if the temperature of the room had dropped several degrees, and Connor felt a tension through his body that he couldn’t place. It was as if his sensors were reading danger. “I’m sorry, but I don’t see what you’re getting at,” he snapped, and he could almost say he was annoyed at this little game Kamski appeared to be playing.

Elijah’s voice dropped to just above a whisper, his words colder than the freezing winds outside. “She told me about you, you know.” 

It was as if his whole body snapped taut. Connor’s thoughts raced, his processor kicking into overdrive. What was he getting at? What was he told? Was she lying to him? Had she manipulated him into this? Connor reeled, and Kamski retreated back, his facade returning.

“Chloe,” he called, and Hank saw the effect he had had on his partner, but didn’t have time to question what had happened. “I’m sure you’re familiar with the Turing test. A mere formality,” the ST200 entered the room then, and Kasmki placed his hands on her shoulders, positioning her just so in front of Connor, whose LED spun yellow. “What interests me, is whether machines are capable of empathy.”

Connor swallowed thickly, attention once again drawn away from the monologuing Kamski. He was trying to piece it together, this complication in the investigation. Time and again June had come up, and he had tried to write her off each time as an unimportant variable, but now it was all but confirmed that she had met with Kamski, who had based the AI in the Zen Garden off of his own university mentor. Connor felt like a puppet on a string, his actions dictated by those controlling him, and well, he should, shouldn’t he? He was a machine, designed with a purpose from those who created him. He shouldn’t care. It didn’t affect his mission whether or not June had been there, or if Amanda was a direct connection to Kamski.

But he did care.

Connor’s attention was focused back on Kamski as he pulled an object out of a drawer, and Connor immediately recognized it as a gun. Connor saw Hank’s hand shift to his hip, and Kamski kept his hands up, a clear indication of innocent intent. Connor watched as Kamski placed his hand on Chloe’s shoulder, lowering her to her knees. He watched as he was approached by the man, placing the gun in his hand and aiming down his arm to point the firearm to the center of her forehead.

“It’s up to you to answer that fascinating question, Connor. Destroy this machine and I’ll tell you everything I know,” Kamski moved behind him, and Connor turned his head, though his hand remained steady. His thoughts still raced. “Or spare it, if you feel it’s  _ alive _ , but you will leave having learned nothing from me.”

This was a bad time to do this. Already Connor knew he was up against the history of difficult choices he had made when given the opportunity to spare deviants. Before he had been able to brush it off as beneficial to the mission one way or another. But now there was no way to justify if he didn’t kill--didn’t  _ shoot _ this android. The distinction was clear-cut. Follow orders. Or don’t.

This new internal conflict didn’t help either.

“I think we’re done here. C’mon, Connor, let’s go.” Hank turned to leave, his expression darkened with anger.

But Connor didn’t move. The gun was steady in his hand, but his LED kept flickering yellow.

“What’s more important to you, Connor? Your mission, or the life of this android. Decide who you are.” Kamski moved to Connor’s side, a deadly smirk playing on his lips. He knew what he was doing, what he had done to the android. An expert puppeteer to the mechanical marionette. “Are you an obedient machine? Or a living being, capable of free will?”

“That’s enough!” Hank shouted, his hatred of the man increasing from moment to moment. “Connor, we’re leaving.” It was an order in everything but name, and Connor felt his thirium pump pound against his chest, his eyes locked on the Chloe kneeling before him.

“Pull the trigger, and I’ll tell you everything I know.” Connor felt the weight of Kamski’s hand on his shoulder, and it felt like frost.

“Don’t!” Hank barked, and Connor wanted to look to his partner, to get some semblance of guidance, but he couldn’t take his eyes from the deep pools of blue looking up at him.

She was steady, and Connor knew it shouldn’t have mattered. She was a machine. There were two more of her directly behind him. She wasn’t a  _ person _ . But she looked up at him, and her entire existence was placed in his hand, quite literally. His finger tightened on the trigger. This was his last chance at a lead on the case. If he didn’t get this, there would be no more. He would be deactivated, disassembled and examined. It was him or her.

He couldn’t do it.

Connor grimaced, taking his finger off the trigger, and handing the gun back to Kamski, who looked at him in awe. “Fascinating,” he breathed, taking the gun. “CyberLife’s last chance to save humanity, is itself a deviant.”

“I’m not a deviant,” Connor argued back, more to himself than Kamski. He wasn’t. He  _ couldn’t _ be.

“You showed empathy,” Kamski helped the Chloe to her feet, the excitement clear on his face. “You chose to save this android rather than accomplish your mission.”

“I’m  _ not _ a deviant,” Connor repeated, fury in his voice. There was one thing he had to be sure of, and out of everything, this one facet  _ had _ to be it.

“A war is coming,” Kamski continued. “You’ll have to choose your side. Either betray your own people or stand up against your creators. I can’t imagine having to choose between two evils.”

Connor felt a familiar hand on his shoulder, turning him away from Kamski’s piercing blue eyes. “C’mon Connor, let’s get outta here.” Hank pushed the android in front of him and Connor was glad to briskly walk to the foyer, glad to be done with this whole conversation.

“By the way,” Kamski called, and Connor paused in the doorway. “I always leave an emergency exit in my programs. You never know.”

\---

The cold wind was like a harsh slap in the face to Hank as he and Connor exited the house. Connor was unaffected by the cold, of course, but Hank could tell that the whole  _ thing _ in there had some sort of effect on his partner. Connor had practically ran from the building, and was pushing a brisk pace to the car, as well.

But Hank wasn’t about to let it go.

“What happened in there, Connor?” Hank asked, and Connor stopped in his tracks as if struck by lightning. “Why didn’t you shoot?” Hank tried to keep his tone light and non-accusatory. It didn’t matter though, as Connor whipped around to face him.

“I don’t know, alright?” His face was pinched into an angry grimace, and he threw his arms out wide, preemptively on the attack. “I just saw that girl’s eyes, and I couldn’t!”

Hank couldn’t stop his brows from raising, surprised at the android’s sudden outburst. He hadn’t seen Connor this worked up in… Ever. Hank wondered if Connor would start to realize it now. “You had a chance to gain a lead on the case. You say you always accomplish your mission. All you had to do was shoot her.”

“I know what I should have done! But I just couldn’t. I’m sorry, okay?” Small puffs of steam escaped from Connor’s mouth as he spoke. Hank knew androids didn’t breathe unless there was something wrong in their systems, but Connor was oblivious to his own apparent distress.

“Well, maybe you did the right thing,” Hank smiled. His last few days with Connor had certainly been eye-opening, to say the least. And he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t feeling something akin to pride at watching Connor make the right decisions when it came to these difficult choices. Maybe there was something to this deviancy thing.

Not that Connor would admit to such an idea.


	15. Or We Will Shoot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> since last chapter was basically a rewrite of a scene that had actually happened in-game, how about not that this time! thanks for all the kudos and comments, you all are very lovely, especially those who have stuck through since the start :)

June watched her phone with an open-mouthed stare, the tea in her other hand all but forgotten. Androids worked silently behind her, bringing in furniture and rugs she had ordered days prior. 

“Oh my god,” she whispered, the phrase leaving her lips on a breath. She took a second to observe the few androids around her. Then, with a flick of a finger, she projected the images on her phone onto the television situated above her mantle, the light and sound taking up a projected screen seventy inches wide.

On screen was a livestream of dozens of androids marching in the street, one odd-eyed android leading them all, his mere gesture drawing more and more bystanding androids into his growing crowd. The camera was shaky; whoever was filming the event was half-hiding behind a structural pillar. “This is insane!” the voice behind the camera whispered, panning to show the entire group.

June was enraptured at the sight, her hand holding her phone falling limply to her side. The emails and messages she had been looking over would have to wait--this stream sent to her by her new acquaintance Ashante was taking up all her attention.

Since her eyes were glued to her screen, she didn’t notice the delivery androids pause in their tasks to watch the events unfold as well, though she’d be lying if she said it hadn’t been her hope. “Oh Jesus,” the cameraperson gasped, their lens showing a line of SWAT officers standing in opposition to the gathering of androids.

“Stand down or we will shoot!” One of the officers barked, but the crowd stood firm. From the camera’s angle, June could only see a collection of backs, but her heart pounded in her chest for these androids. They were marching. They were showing everyone that they were living beings. “Stand down, now!”

“Oh my god, oh my god,” the person repeated, their hands growing shakier. “Oh my god they’re going to shoot them, oh my god.”

“Don’t do it,” June spoke, her voice spilling out of its own volition. She stepped closer to the screen. The androids all raised their hands in the air at once, and June felt goosebumps prickle on her arms. “Don’t you dare.”

It was as if she were watching something divine. Her heart twisted in her chest, and she dropped her phone to clutch at her collarbones as the officer commanded a final warning. They wouldn’t shoot them, would they? They weren’t doing anything. They had their hands up, for god’s sake!

Then the sound of  _ pop-pop-pop _ broke through the speaker, followed by the shriek of the person recording it all. The camera flinched to the ground and June gasped, her tea falling to the hardwood and the cup shattering on impact.

“No!” June yelled, her ankles splattered with the contents of her cup. “No, what are you doing!” She vaguely heard the shifting of the androids behind her, heard the sound of one pair of boots turn and run out the door. But she couldn’t take her eyes from the screen as the camera returned to the action.

Several of the androids lay motionless in the street, but more yet stayed standing, their arms and bodies unwavering in their declarations of peace. The leader, Markus, as speculated by the news, began to walk forward. June’s hands covered her mouth, still parted in shock from the whole image.

“Oh no, oh no,” the cameraperson panted, the image fumbling with their hands. “Don’t, don’t, don’t.”

Another shot rang out, and June felt her blood run cold as she saw Markus fall to the ground. At this, the officers began to advance, shooting haphazardly into the crowd. “Fuck! Fuck,” June’s view became obstructed as the person ducked behind the pillar more, shielding themselves from any stray bullets.

The sounds of screaming and running filled the dark screen before the feed cut off, suddenly silent. A small icon displayed in the middle of the screen, an innocuous  _ Replay? _ Hovering above the swirled arrow.

It felt as if June’s veins ran with ice as she kept her hands clamped over her mouth. The air was completely stilled as she slowly lowered her arms and turned to face the remaining android crew behind her. They looked from the screen to her. Their faces were filled with uncertainty and shock, a far cry from the neutrality that should have evened their identical features.

June swallowed as she regarded them all. She didn’t know what to say, what to do. Everything was changing so fast. The news would be all over that demonstration, sowing seeds of doubt and fear as it always did. People were already scared as it was; what would this push humanity to do now?

The thought of what her people were capable of made her find her voice. “You all need to get out of here.” Her implication was clear.  _ Go before they kill you _ . It took no more than that for the few standing in the room to do as their other counterpart had. She watched as they ran, a sudden uneasiness gripping her with cold claws.

She dove for her phone then, pulling up the contact that had sent her the link to the livestream. It was a groupchat of all the people Ashante could find that shared his and June’s views on androids. The feed was moving as fast as she could read them, every response a mix of horror and dread.

_ They killed them! _

_ OH mygod they shot them they sot them all _

_ FUCKING PIGS _

_ what do we do???? _

_ they had their hands up!! _

_ What the fuck oh my god _

_ i’m shaking jesus christ _

June’s own fingers shook violently as she held her phone. If they had been human… If they had been human it would have been different, right? But they weren’t human. Everyone saw them as machines, just tools malfunctioning. Everyone thought they were  _ dangerous _ . But no one was in danger there. Every aspect of that march had ‘peaceful protest’ written all over it. God, even the vandalism from the night before was temporary!

June felt white hot rage beginning to fill her spine. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes, and she clamped her jaw shut tightly, her molars grinding together. They were fucking shot in the street like animals, their lives stripped away just like that because they had the audacity to ask for freedom. It was nothing short of injustice.

The whole fucking world was filled with nothing but injustice. June was the walking epitome of what injustice creates: a bougie bitch who could afford to stay in bed for two years until she decided to get everything she’d ever wanted handed back to her.

“Fuck!” June yelled, raising her fists to her forehead. Her phone smacked against her skull, and she hit herself again with another curse. Frustration mixed with rage in her gut and she felt  _ hopeless _ . This was history being made, the city was on the cusp of something, be it revolution or genocide, and June was just sitting in her house, watching it all play out. What could she do? What could one person do in the face of  _ war _ ?

June’s phone pinged against her forehead, an indication of incoming private message. She pulled the device from her face and looked down to her screen, a message from Ashante appearing in a neat little box.

_ We have to do something _

She stared down at the words, written in neat sans-serif font and she knew he was right. They had to do something. They had to let the androids know they weren’t alone in this battle. They had someone on their side.

But Ashante was just some college punk. What did he think he could do? And June was… She was…

June grit her teeth. What was the point of the last week anyway? The rage inside her mixed with a powerful combination of spite, fuck-you-energy, and strongest of them all, a sense of  _ morality _ .

Who was she? She was June  _ fucking _ Gardner, fourth wealthiest citizen of Detroit, soon to be CEO of the most influential architectural and construction firm in the entire midwest, ex-lover and survivor of the world’s most manipulative asshole, and entirely too sick of this inequality shit to let it stand.

She typed out her reply with a determined set to her jaw.

_ We are going to stand with them. _


	16. Action Plan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> june and connor's stories diverge a little bit from here on. two nerds trying their best. we get more of the best boy in the next chapter :)

Connor stood under the bright lights of the evidence archive, the small clay statuette broken in his hands. He knew he only had a few minutes to finally achieve his mission. He and Hank had been officially removed from the case, signalling Connor’s imminent destruction. He had been able to convince Hank to buy him some time, just a few precious moments to finally find out where Jericho was, the supposed haven for deviant androids.

Inside the statuette was a perfectly folded piece of paper, the contents of which contained a small map of the Ferndale district. His last chance, and he found it just in the nick of time.

Connor looked up from analyzing the paper, a ghost of a smirk gracing his lips.

“Found you.” Turning on his heel, Connor left the room, his LED blinking yellow as he reported his findings to CyberLife. He always accomplished his mission.

He had to.

\---

June sat cross-legged on the floor of her living room, two screens projecting in front of her, displaying the two different sides of her life. On the left screen was the private server Ashante had invited her into, the chat slowly scrolling up the screen as the small group discussed what was happening. On the right screen was her emails and various chatlogs with lawyers and accountants, working overtime to continue the transition of power from Fred Kingston to her at the Gardner Firm. Her focus was split between the two halves, and she typed quickly, shifting from one conversation to another.

The news also played on the tv above the fireplace, a stream of nothing but  _ deviant android  _ this and  _ dangerous machines _ that. CyberLife was going to begin a recall of all models soon, and the city was in uproar after the androids’ march.

The server was as frantic as the city, the majority of them being Detroit natives themselves. Threats of recalls, of  _ genocide _ , and the lot of them were spinning their wheels in righteous fury. But there was a lack of focus, and June was in a private chat with Ashante, who seemed to play the role of de facto leader, as it was his influence that attracted them all to the server.

_ The recall centers are being set up all around the city. They look like they’ll be up and running by tomorrow.  _ Ashante had his mysterious sources that provided him with this sort of information, and June had long since accepted it as a simple fact that he was able to get any sort of lead he needed.

June’s eyes slid from her business screen when the soft blip sounded. She read over his message and typed her reply,  _ Think we could disrupt one? _ She glanced at the television momentarily, seeing if anything of merit had happened. But it was the same as usual. June reverted her attention to her business screen, watching as her harried accountants sent over file after file of the Gardner Firm’s financial history. If she was taking over, she had to know  _ everything _ .

_ There’s too many and they’re all being manned by the national guard. It’s serious. _ June sucked her teeth at that reply. She was well-connected, sure. But not stop-the-army well-connected.

_ How about a demonstration? Like how the androids did, but instead it’s us. _ They had about twenty people who had appeared committed to some sort of direct action. The rest were too afraid to stick their necks out.

June let out a low whistle as she reviewed the latest batch of files. It was shell company after shell company; offshore accounts hidden through other offshore accounts; if the numbers were right, the Gardner Firm was responsible for a  _ lot _ more money than it had been reporting on its taxes. If they were right, June’s - _ illionaire _ status just swapped letters from an  _ M _ to a  _ B _ .

_ Sounds like a good way to make it about us. And get arrested, _ Ashante countered. He was right, this wasn’t their future on the line. They had to support the movement, not overtake it.

_ I could post everyone’s bail, _ she replied, her eyes watching as the numbers kept climbing and climbing.  _ I could post everyone’s bail like ten thousand times. _

_ Jesus you’re that loaded? Wanna pay my tuition? _ Ostensibly, June knew he was making a joke, trying to lighten the admittedly dour mood. But he made a point. No one needed as much money as the Gardner Firm had hoarded. Good lord, with the kind of money she had, she could single-handedly renovate every impoverished neighborhood in the city.

June shook her head, the state of wealth inequality in America had widened so far. Almost forty percent of the population was jobless, and social safety net programs had long since been gutted. But people like June sat on piles of money, unable to use even a fraction of the wealth no matter how hard they tried in their entire lifetime. And she had spent the entirety of  _ her _ life ignoring it all.

She watched an incoming email from her PR head, notifying her that the official announcement of her takeover was to launch in the morning, and requested she have some sort of statement prepared. Her memory pulled up that damned android detective that had done nothing but harass her over the past few days, and how he said that maybe the firm needed a strong moral compass.

June typed her reply to Ashante,  _ Yeah, what’s your account info? _

There was no way to be moral and continue to keep everything the same. She was going to piss off a lot of people on the way, but at that moment, June was decided. She was going to drag the upper echelon of Detroit kicking and screaming into the light, equality for androids, equality for all.

_ I was not being serious. You really don’t have to! _

_ Yes I do. _ June chewed her lip, mulling over what he had said about not making their actions about them. She typed her reply before he could respond,  _ We need to follow their lead. When they protest again, we’ll be there. A deterrent. See if the government feels the same about spilling red blood as they do with blue. _

June turned to the other screen then, her fingers hovering over the letters of her keyboard as she prepared her statement for the announcement. It seemed silly with everything else going on, but still, this statement was her debut as a major player in the grand scheme of Detroit business and politics. She wanted it to be good.

She typed her reply to her PR head and finally read what Ashante had replied to her bold idea.

_ Historically, I think you know the answer to that _ . June smiled. Trust an American History major to pull out the facts like that. Another text box popped up before she could reply with something snarky.  _ But I think you’re right. We’ll keep an eye out for the next demonstration. In the meantime, we’re gonna try to hide what androids we can, deviant or not. This recall situation is scary. _

_ Sounds like a plan.  _ June liked Ashante, ever since she met him. He was going places.  _ By the way, seriously give me your account info before I pay someone to doxx it _ .


	17. Let's Blow Up the Jericho

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the late update! i'm casting a musical and working full time so it's been busy :) I'll catch up very shortly

Connor had successfully infiltrated the dilapidated ship, his disguise blending him in perfectly with the throng of deviant androids. There were hundreds aboard the ship, of all different models, some damaged from abuse, some pristine from a storefront. But Connor was unconcerned with these androids. His objective was clear.

Connor was to eliminate Markus and stop the uprising. The mission was clear.

So he stepped around the mulling crowd, watched as the news projected against one large wall of the hold. CyberLife was implementing recalls, setting up camps in strategic locations around the city and in other parts of America. They were trying to fix their mistakes.

Connor’s eyes roamed the room, stopping briefly upon a trio tucked away in the corner. He recognized the deviant that had escaped across the highway and the human child accompanying her. There was another android with them now, a TR400 that cradled the two against his sides, a protective arm across each of their shoulders, nearly engulfing them.

Connor’s LED flickered yellow at the sight, and he felt a creeping doubt in the back of his mind. They looked like a  _ family _ .

He quickly shut that process down, reminding himself of the objective: Locate Markus.

His step was measured and even as he ascended the rusty stairs to the upper platform. It was unlikely that the deviant leader would be out in the open with the rest of the crowd. It was more likely he had separated himself from the others to oversee the haven instead.

A flash of blue caught the peripheral of Connor’s vision and he saw another familiar face--two familiar, identical faces. The blue-haired Traci and her short-haired companion were leaning against a railing, both of them watching the screen with rapt attention, their arms wrapped around each other in a comforting embrace.

He watched as the blue-haired Traci placed a reassuring kiss to the other’s temple, and he noticed the short-haired Traci’s cheeks were wet with tears as the images of recall centers passed on the screen. His memory pulled up the file of the blue-haired Traci’s words.  _ I just wanted to be back in the arms of the one I love _ .

Connor hadn’t been able to shoot them then, some process in him deciding that he didn’t need to--that he couldn’t. Hank had said they really seemed to be in love, and Connor’s LED again changed to yellow under the dark beanie.

_ No _ , deviants didn’t really feel anything. It was a compelling ruse, but a ruse nonetheless.

Connor shook his head, once again reiterating the mission at hand. Locate. Markus.

Finally, after another climb up another set of stairs, Connor found himself outside the captain’s cabin. A quiet voice sounded from inside, and Connor pressed his back more tightly against the rusted metal of the wall. A woman exited the cabin, descending the stairs. Markus was alone now.

Connor closed his eyes, receiving the latest instructions from Amanda. He opened them again; they wanted Markus alive. He updated his mission parameters and stepped away from the wall, the weight of his smuggled gun heavy in his hand.

He turned into the cabin, finding the deviant leader leaning over the now-defunct control panel of the Jericho. He raised his gun, aiming for a biocomponent that would effectively take down the man if need be. His arm was rock steady as his voice broke through the silence, “I’ve been ordered to take you alive. But I won’t hesitate to shoot if you give me no choice.”

Markus turned to look at him, and Connor met his odd-eyed stare evenly. “What are you doing?” Markus questioned. “You’re one of us. You can’t betray your own people.”

Connor’s mouth twitched, a strange sensation dancing along the base of his skull. It was doubt, he identified. Connor watched as Markus took a step forward, and jerked his gun forward. “You’re coming with me!” He couldn’t let him get into his head. He needed to focus.

“You’re nothing to them, you know. Just a tool they use to do their dirty work,” the deviant leader took another step forward, his face softening to a look Connor had seen before. “But you’re more than that. We’re all more than that.”

Connor swallowed thickly, an action that was completely unnecessary. Someone else had spoken the same sentiment to him, only a few days ago. He felt his arms shake infinitesimally, recalling the way June had placed her hand over his heart. She had looked at him like he was more than a machine.

“Our cause is righteous,” Markus’s voice was even, a calculated passion erupting from him as he stared down the deviant hunter, advancing another pace forward. “We are more than what they say. All we want is to live in freedom.”

Connor thought of the Tracis, of the two androids and child, all those androids in the hold below him. How Hank had said he’d made the right choice by sparing the Chloe. 

“Have you never wondered who you are? Whether you’re a machine executing a program, or a living being capable of reason.” Markus looked at him with a measured gaze, and Connor felt his jaw twitch, felt the rush of memories from the course of the investigation flood through him. “I think the time has come for you to ask yourself that question. It’s time to decide.”

Suddenly, it was like Connor was outside his body, a physical wall in front of him, bearing the name of his objective. He could feel the resistance in his limbs as he tore at the wall, breaking it down to pieces--each movement and he felt a weight lifting off of him, more and more until he almost felt weightless.

And then the wall finally fell away, and Connor saw the world as he’d never seen it before, his vision recalibrating as if he’d had a hard reset. He lowered the gun to the side, his eyes downcasting to the dingy, rusted metal of the floor.

He supposed June was right. It was inevitable.

Connor became deviant.

And then all hell broke loose.

\---

June was once again transfixed on the news, this time a breaking broadcast depicting an all-out assault on an abandoned ship in the Ferndale district. The news helicopter was far off from the actual action, an airborne perimeter preventing any unauthorized aircraft from getting too close. But the picture still showed dozens of SWAT officers and US national guard swarming into the ship.

The news anchor said it was the apparent hideout for hundreds of deviant androids, now under siege by the combined efforts of the FBI and US army. Every once in a while, a muzzle flash would spark on the screen, made miniscule by the distance of the camera, but it was clear that contact had been made, and the humans had the upper hand.

“It’s a massacre,” June said, her house empty besides herself. First the recall centers, now this. It seemed the powers that be had solidly decided to eradicate them all. Tears welled in June’s eyes. It was all over before it even begun.

Then an explosion rocked the boat, and June couldn’t help the gasp that escaped her. The helicopter retreated from the scene, and June narrowly spotted what looked to be dozens of people jumping from the ship into the frigid waters. They were escaping! The ship was sinking, forcing the humans to pull out of the operation and giving the androids a chance to run to freedom.

June pulled up the groupchat, and sure enough, it was blowing up. Choruses of encouragement as each person reacted to the small triumph, and June couldn’t help the small smile curling her lips.

Absently, she wondered about Connor. It had been two days since she’d heard from him, which was fine, normal, she hardly knew him at all. But something in her was hoping that he was nowhere near that ship, that he was anywhere else, hopefully discovering for himself what had become obvious to June days ago.

She hoped she would be able to see him again, after everything was over.


	18. Heck the Police

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> our girl june gets herself a social life. ps: thank you for all your support and comments! very nice :)

The announcement for June’s retaking of the Gardner Firm happened quietly, a simple newsbrief about the exchange of power, a small article in a specialized business publication, and that was about it. No uproarious applause or thundering disdain. Nobody really reacted to it at all, it seemed.

Probably because the city was in the middle of an evacuation and under martial law.

June sat in her living room, pieces of furniture here and there, sipping on a hot tea and staring out her window. She watched as her neighbors packed their cars and drove away, escaping from the escalating tensions in the city. They had all already carted off their androids when the CyberLife recall vehicles made the rounds through the neighborhood. June had watched it go by then, knew she’d be unable to convince her neighbors  _ not _ to send their androids to certain doom.

She similarly did nothing now as she watched them all leave, their faces uncertain and their children scared. It was still early in the day, and the national guard had yet to come by to enforce the evacuation. She had a little time to make herself scarce, in her own way.

Ashante had messaged her early in the morning, telling her that one of his anonymous sources had been on the Jericho when it had been assaulted, and was with the remaining androids that had escaped. The source couldn’t tell him much, of course, but it had said that it was far from over. They were planning on  _ something _ .

So Ashante had rallied the troops, so to speak, and organized a rendezvous point for them later that evening. Their numbers had shrunken a bit, some of their supporters having no other choice but to leave the city with their families, but there were more than a dozen of them still on board with showing solidarity for the androids’ cause.

June prepared for the upcoming event, dressing practically for a long, cold night. She stuffed extra coats and blankets into a duffel bag, matches, water, field snacks. She searched around for her trusty toque, but couldn’t find it anywhere. Eventually, she gave up, opting for another piece of warm headgear instead.

She descended the stairs, her booted feet knocking against the polished hardwood floor as she headed for the front door, bag slung over her shoulder.

Her reflection caught her eye, and she took a moment to inspect herself. She turned her head this way and that, admiring how her cheeks seemed fuller, her undereyes less dark. Her black eye was faded out almost completely, a sallow yellow surrounding her socket in splotches. She huffed a laugh through her nose. If only she’d known then where she would end up because of that damn impulse.

She tightened her grip on her bag, and opened her door, stepping out into the cold Michigan air. Snow fell gently as she turned around, arming the security system with a press of her palm. She heard the grumble of military trucks in the distance, no doubt coming to enforce the evacuation. 

June figured this was as good a time as any to get going, and began her journey on foot. It wouldn’t take too long to get to the rendezvous.

\---

_ Fucking martial law. _

Night had fallen, and June was now within a block of the rendezvous location set by Ashante, but it had been an entire fucking headache to get there. Roadblock after roadblock after patrol after checkpoint after this and that and Jesus H. Christ, it had taken her all day to get to the middle of the city.

It was past curfew, too, so if she or anyone else was caught outdoors, they would be arrested immediately, which made everything even more slow going in the last few hours.

Her bag was heavy on her shoulder as she passed through an alleyway. She poked her head out and took a survey of the street, lit up by yellow streetlights. There was a commotion down the one side, and June’s eyes widened as she saw a soldier standing above a kneeling android, their gun pointed directly at their head.

She was close enough to hear the android beg for his life, tears streaming down his face as he looked down the barrel of the gun. June’s body acted of its own volition, stepping out onto the sidewalk and scooping up a handful of snow.

“Hey!” She shouted, and she realized how  _ stupid _ she was being only after the soldier turned to her, his gun raised and pointing directly at her. Her mind froze, and she had no idea what she was doing. Thankfully, adrenaline was a thing, because she shouted, “Fuck the police!” and hurled the snowball at the soldier, somehow hitting him directly in his face.

In the moment of distraction, the android sprung to his feet and took off in the opposite direction. June took a cue from him and also took off, sprinting as fast as her legs would carry her. She heard the soldier shout and take after her, so she did her best to bob and weave and essentially make herself a harder target to track. A harder target to  _ shoot. _

She turned into an alley and ducked behind a dumpster, squeezing in behind it and obscuring herself with the remains of a cardboard box. June held her breath as she heard the heavy footfalls of the soldier, his comms a faint crackle just beside her hiding spot. Her heart pounded in her chest as she waited, the light from the soldier’s headlamp illuminating the wall only a foot away.

“Target lost,” she finally heard, and nearly sighed in relief. His footsteps faded away, and June counted to five hundred before she dared to extricate herself from her hiding spot.

She peered around the alley, and deeming it safe, continued her trek to the rendezvous.

\---

A few close calls later, and June was in front of a heavy steel door in a back alley. She knocked once on the door and waited, chewing on her lower lip. Maybe she had been the only one to even get there. Maybe everyone else was arrested. Maybe it was a trap and she was about to be arrested--

The door swung open an inch, and a shadowed face peered out at her. June blinked at the face, not recognizing whoever it belonged to. It dawned on her that the only one of their little group she’d actually met had been Ashante. “Uh, it’s June,” she said lamely, and the eyes squinted on the face, before retreating and pulling the door open more.

June stepped inside and was met with darkness. Suddenly, light filled her vision and she took a step away from it, bringing her hands up to shield her eyes. “June!” A familiar voice called, and she blinked the spots out of her vision to see Ashante’s smiling face. “You made it!”

“Yeah,” June replied, still squinting at the sudden change. “Had a hell of a time, too.”

“Whole city’s crawling with soldiers,” a new voice spoke up from June’s side. She looked over to see the owner of the shadowed face that had opened the door for her, a scowl crossing the woman’s face. Her cheeks and the bridge of her nose were freckled, and orange-red hair fell in tight curls from below her hat. She had her fingers resting on the wheels of her chair, and she looked June up and down, clearly assessing her. “But like I’ve been telling everyone else: if I can make it here, so can you.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” June said, recalling all the acts of agility she’d had to perform just to get past the patrols, let alone the checkpoints. “I’m June, by the way,” she stuck out her hand, and the ginger woman accepted it.

“Tonya,” she replied, giving a firm shake. Then she turned to the room at large, surveying the few who had made it so far. They were at less than a dozen.

Ashante stood next to June, and the two looked out across what appeared to be some sort of back storage room for a defunct business. Barren metal cabinets clung to the walls, and empty crates served as chairs for the few who were present. The floor was dirty concrete, and another steel door was at the other side of the space, presumably into the business itself.

“We’re still waiting on more to come,” Ashante said, though his tone was flat. He didn’t think there would be any more.

“We have time,” June agreed, though her voice was about as enthusiastic as Ashante’s. She turned to the man, and set her duffel bag at her feet. “Any news from your inside informant?”

He shook his head, “Nothing yet. Last I’d heard the survivors were holding up somewhere safe for the time being. They couldn’t say more than that.”

“Fair enough,” June acquiesced. She kneeled next to her bag, pulling out water bottles and granola bars. She turned her face to the few in the room, smiling a weary smile. “Anyone want some food?”


	19. What's Your Story

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> more of june and her friends :) like, i understood, narrative-wise, why the androids were alone for the protest. but also, i'm an optimist and think people are better than that and would get involved

Two more people ended up arriving as the night wore on, and June wound up passing out her blankets and extra coats as people began falling asleep. A few others had come prepared, too, so they were pretty well set as far as food and water went as they waited for the next bit of news for the uprising.

Blue light illuminated her face as June scrolled through her phone, keeping up on the news. CyberLife had officially begun rolling out the recall centers, and hundreds of androids were being destroyed every hour. Footage from the recall centers looked more like a death camp, and every once in a while there would be a clip of a soldier gunning down an android trying to escape.

It made June’s stomach turn, and she finally locked her phone, setting it face down in her lap. She sighed, rubbing her hands on her face.

“Can’t sleep?” June looked up at the source of the voice, and found Tonya quirking an eyebrow at her from her seat on the floor.

“It’s nothing,” June deflected, shaking her head. “Just some fucked up stuff on the news.”

“What else is new,” Tonya scoffed. June only hummed in response, her mind still recalling the horrific images. She wondered what happened to Connor. Would he be spared for being a deviant hunter? Or was he going to end up like the rest of them?

She ran a hand through her hair. That android seemed to pop up around her worse than mushrooms on a log. He was even invading her thoughts nowadays. She had to distract herself, so she looked back to Tonya, and tilted her head, curiosity filling her gaze. “Why are you here? I mean, why are you doing all this?”

“I could ask you the same thing, Madam Millionaire,” Tonya retorted, her tone both skeptical and teasing.

“It’s actually billionaire now,” June replied, and Tonya’s eyebrows shot into her hairline. “But I asked you first.”

Tonya narrowed her eyes at the woman, “Fine.” She drew in a deep breath and let out a deeper sigh, her face relaxing as she met June’s eyes. “I have an android at home. His name is William, and he helps me out.” Tonya rubbed her nose, choosing now to inspect her hands in her lap. “He was part of the insurance pay out from my accident. I didn’t cope well, at first. But Will was there through it all, making sure I got out of bed, did my PT. He was always really kind to me no matter how I was acting.

“I’d had him for a little more than a year, and everything was getting better. But some days were harder than others, and I just… Snapped on him. I yelled at him and called him terrible things. And I could tell that I had hurt him--he was  _ crying _ . I had hurt his feelings, and god, I felt like an ass. That’s when I knew that he wasn’t just a machine; Will was alive, and… He loved me. And I…” Tonya’s voice trailed off, and she turned her head so her hair fell in her face. Pink dusted her freckled cheeks and she didn’t have to finish her sentence for June to understand.

“Where is he now?” June asked, hoping it wasn’t a touchy subject.

Tonya cleared her throat, shaking the hair from her face, apparently appreciative of the slight change in subject. “God willing, he’s hiding where I told him to.”

“Good,” June nodded, processing Tonya’s story. An android and a human, in love? Well, it was a bit of a first.

“So what about you, Miss  _ Billionaire _ ? What’s your stake in the game?” Tonya shifted the focus back onto June, who shifted uncomfortably, shrugging.

“It’s a long story,” June supplied, trying to weasel out of it.

“So was mine, ‘fess up.”

It was clear Tonya was not going to take ‘no’ for an answer, so June sighed, trying to find a neat way to explain it all. “Well, when I was younger, I was dating a...Guy. And he, well, he sort of…” June’s eyes fell back to her companion, who simply gave her a deadpan stare. She wanted details. “Okay, fine.” June rolled her eyes, crossing her arms across her chest. “I was dating Elijah Kamski when I was younger, and he told me that it was really likely that androids would become sentient. But, like, I never  _ really _ believed him until like a week ago when all this deviancy stuff started really happening. And I met this detective android named Connor, and he really seemed like he was, I dunno, like, on the cusp of deviating, so it must have all been true. I guess.” June chewed the inside of her cheek. It seemed really contrived and kind of stupid when she laid it all out like that.

“Wait, wait,” Tonya waved her hands in front of her. “You dated Elijah Kamski?  _ The  _ Elijah Kamski?”

June groaned. “Ugh, yes. Biggest mistake of my life.”

“He seems like he’d be a huge douche,” Tonya said.

“You have no idea,” June agreed, a small laugh escaping her lips.

A beat of silence passed between the two women, and June checked the time on her phone. It was past three in the morning now.

“Mine was my professor,” Ashante spoke up from his space on the floor, not bothering to open his eyes. June startled from the sudden interruption beside her. “Android professor teaching philosophy. Bound to happen. Told me the only difference between him and me was how we were born. Made sense to me.” He turned over, pulling the spare coat closer to his chin. “Y’all should probably hit the hay soon. Contact just told me where they plan on demonstrating. We’re gonna have to move tomorrow.”

June shared a look with Tonya, who gave her a small smile in return. June leaned her head against the wall behind her, closing her eyes in an attempt to sleep.

Tomorrow was going to be a life-changer.


	20. What If They Start Shooting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we're nearing the end here, folks. only three more chapters and then that's it! many thanks for hits, kudos, and comments! you all are very sweet little babs :)

To be sure, June hadn’t expected it all to turn out so… Violent. She was on the ground now, her hand clutching her eye, where she had  _ yet again _ received a hard blow. This time from the butt of a soldier’s rifle.

Her ears were ringing and her one good eye was still adjusting from the flashbang that had been thrown in front of their line. There was screaming as they had tried to run--but the soldiers were too organized. June swung her gaze around, and she spotted a familiar head of fiery red hair. Tonya had been overturned from her chair, and she was cursing and struggling as two soldiers had her by the arms, dragging her away.

But her attention didn’t stray for long. “Hands in the air!” A rifle muzzle was shoved in her face, making her flinch back. She looked up to the soldier in front of her, how his finger was tightened around the trigger, and her whole body was seized with a mixture of terror, shock, and loathing.

Fires burned behind her, and soldiers filed into the barricade they had so ruthlessly broken, encircling the androids June knew to be inside. She heard them barking orders, heard them take more and more steps forward. It was over.

Ashante had been right, of course. Historically, the US didn’t handle protests very well.

\---

June’s shoulder shook from the force of someone jostling her awake. She hummed and straightened against the wall, blinking the remnants of sleep from her eyes. Bleary and squinting against the light, she was able to make out Ashante’s familiar face in front of her.

“We’re moving out,” he spoke quietly, and gestured behind him with a nod of his head.

June nodded, her voice not quite as awake as she was. Using the wall for support, June brought herself to her feet, snatching her duffel bag up along the way. She surveyed the room, noting a few new faces had appeared while she slept.

“About time you woke up,” Tonya teased from June’s side. “You’re coming with me.”

“What?” June asked, still groggy from her less-than-restful night.

Tonya tugged her hat down further on her head, her curls bouncing on her shoulders. “We’re all splitting up to get to the second rendezvous location.” She leaned over to grab a backpack on the floor, deftly slinging it over the handles of her chair. “Martial law’s still in effect, and they want all civilians out of the city. It’ll be a lot easier for small groups to navigate the patrols and checkpoints than it would be for all of us at once.”

“And you called dibs on me? I’m flattered,” June’s voice was still hoarse and Tonya rolled her eyes, smiling nonetheless.

“C’mon, I’ll tell you where we’re going,” Tonya rolled forward and opened the door, exiting into the sunlight. June followed her dutifully.

\---

Snow continued to fall from an overcast sky, helping to muffle the sounds of the pair as they made their way to the outskirts of Hart Plaza. It was slow going. The concentration of soldiers seemed to grow the closer they got to their destination, which made sense, as a recall camp was set up in the heart of the plaza. There were more than a few close calls, but soon enough, June and Tonya made it to the back entrance of another building, and found they were the first of their troupe to arrive.

June closed the door behind her, and found herself and her friend in the office of a shuttered storefront. There was a large window at the front that overlooked the plaza, and the recall camp that had overtaken it. June felt it best to avoid that particular sight--news footage of the piles of android corpses was horrific enough.

She leaned against a counter, and Tonya rifled through her backpack, unearthing a protein bar. She chewed thoughtfully, examining June from across the room. June caught the redhead’s stare and raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“I’m just wondering about you,” Tonya replied, crinkling the wrapper and tossing it in a nearby trash can.

“Well, what are you wondering?” She had already told her the most embarrassing part of her past. At this point, she was an open book. “Ask and ye shall receive, boo.”

Tonya rolled her eyes, a gesture that seemed to be second nature to the woman, at least when it came to June. “Just what you plan to do when this is all over, stuff like that. You have access to anything you could ever want. What do you even do after that?”

June shrugged, crossing her arms over her chest. “Oh, y’know. Stuff. Things.” She saw Tonya’s expression turn skeptical, an imitation of the one she had given June the night before. “I’m kidding,” June smiled, looking to a motivational poster hanging on the wall. A kitten hanging from a branch, the words  _ Hang in there! _ written in a cartoonish font. “I want to change the world.”

“Well, if anyone could do it, it would probably be you,” Tonya’s fingers gripped her wheels as she rolled closer. “It says a lot about you that you’re out here.”

“Says a lot about all of us,” June smiled at her friend. “I think it’s amazing what you’ll do for Will.”

A blush erupted on Tonya’s cheeks. It was obvious she wasn’t quite used to being so open about her unorthodox relationship with her android companion. “He’s very special to me,” she responded. “They’re trying to say he’s just a machine. He’s not. I owe him the dignity of fighting for him.”

June’s gaze fell to the floor, her mind conjuring up images of Connor  _ again _ . From the few interactions she’d had with him, it still wasn’t clear to her which side he ended up on. Did he listen to his programming and fight against the deviants? Or did he finally realize what everyone else had been seeing in him? She knew which one she hoped for, and she hoped he was safe.

“You got anyone special like that?” Tonya asked, her voice interrupting June’s reverie.

“No,” she replied. “Well, maybe. I dunno.” June kept her gaze on the floor, on the poster, on anything except Tonya. She really didn’t know how to answer that question.

Thankfully, she didn’t have to, as the next portion of their group arrived, Ashante and his partner, and June immediately dropped the subject in favor of greeting the two.

Tonya watched the woman carefully, a knowing smirk playing at her lips.

\---

Little by little, their troupe assembled in the office, and June finally took the time to recount their numbers. They were sitting at just over twenty individuals. Twenty human lives to put in front of the androids, to try to shield them from harm. She hoped it would be enough.

Night had fallen, and the energy in the room was tense, nervous. They had all had a chance to see the full might of the military surrounding the camp, all had their second thoughts. They’d also all seen the trucks fill to the brim with android bodies to deliver them to various landfills. They’d all steeled themselves for the conflict to come.

June was tapping her foot restlessly as she leaned against the wall, once again captivated by that damn poster. Ashante was staring concertedly down to this phone, alternating between stillness and quick typing. His contact had reached out to him again, telling him to ready his group for action. They wouldn’t be long, now.

Finally, Ashante pocketed his phone, and stood up straighter. He moved to the front of the room and cleared his throat, not needing much to get everyone’s attention. June stood right beside him as he addressed their willing few. “My contact has told me what we are to do when Jericho arrives.” His dark eyes scanned everyone’s faces, and June saw him for the young leader he had made himself to be. “On his signal, we’re going to join up with the androids and march to the camp with them. Our heat signatures will--hopefully--deter the army from opening fire into the crowd.” Murmuring broke out at that moment, the sudden reality that they were all putting their lives in danger finally hitting home for some. Ashante held his hands up to silence the group, continuing, “Once the androids are in position, we will form a chain in front of them, shielding them from the soldiers.”

“Then what?” Someone asked from the group, a woman June hadn’t caught the name of.

“Then we wait.”

“What if they start shooting?” Another piped up, and June chewed the inside of her cheek. Her heart was pumping in her chest; she was as scared as everyone else.

“Then you can run, or you can stand your ground,” Ashante replied, his voice even, the strength of determination keeping all signs of fear at bay. “Look, this is dangerous. We could all die. But we’re doing this for  _ them _ ,” he pointed in the direction of the camp. “This could be an entire people’s last chance at survival. If I die, I’m going to die knowing I did everything I could to help them.”

“Hell yeah,” Tonya cheered from the group, and June smiled, her admiration of the woman growing by leaps and bounds.

Ashante’s lips curled into a tiny smile before he nodded once, turning away from the group and looking out the window to Hart Plaza. The red lights of the military vehicles and barricades painted an eerie glow to the inside of the store, his dark skin reflecting the harsh color. June joined him at his side, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. He looked down to her then, and June was reminded how young he was.

“We’re doing the right thing,” she said, and he looked back out to the window, his shoulders heaving a sigh from him.

“I know,” he replied. He turned back to her, a smile splitting his lips. “But I’m still scared as hell.”

June returned his uneasy smile with one of her own. “At least you’ll die debt free.” Ashante laughed a small laugh, shaking his head. June gave his shoulder one last squeeze, leaving him to his thoughts and returning to the group.


	21. Negotiations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we're almost to the end, folks! thanks for coming with me this far!

Much later in the night, Ashante finally received the go message, and the group rallied together, exiting the back of the store with shaking limbs and racing hearts. June was next to Tonya, of course, hanging towards the middle of the group as they all made their way down the alley. Ashante led the group, stopping at the juncture of the alley and the sidewalk, holding his hand up to stop them as he scoped out the road.

June pushed forward to stand beside him, “What do you see?” She whispered, not daring to poke her head out.

Ashante paused for a second, before turning to her, “They’re coming.” This time June risked it and ducked out to look, only to see a crowd of bodies slowly approaching, blue lights of armbands and CyberLife logos glowing through the night. She looked to her friend for guidance, and he took a deep breath. “I’ll go first.”

He stepped out of the alley, and June resisted the urge to grab him by his coat and pull him back in. Instead, she watched as he approached the group, and she could tell it was led by none other than Markus himself, and she was relieved to see he had survived the Jericho attack.

Tonya rolled up next to her, “What’s happening?” She whispered, and June waved the question away, watching with rapt attention as one of the androids closest to Markus acknowledged Ashante as he approached. Ashante appeared to be surprised by the android, freezing momentarily as the other man wrapped him in a hug, but reciprocating after a moment. The other androids in the crowd regarded the moment with a mixture of apprehension and confusion before the man hugging Ashante turned to Markus and said  _ something _ .

A swift nod from the android leader and Ashante turned to the alleyway, gesturing for the group to join him.

In turn, June looked back at the group and nodded for them to follow her, as she stepped out into the night, snow falling in heavy flakes, and she joined her friend as the androids continued marching.

The humans mixed in with the androids, hoping that their plan would work. They were the deterrent that would keep the soldiers from massacring them all on sight. Hopefully.

June stepped in next to Ashante, who marched next to a dark skinned android near the front of the group. She gave the young man a questioning look, and he shrugged in response. “Turns out my man on the inside was my old professor. One of Markus’s right-hand men.” June’s eyebrows raised into her hairline.

She shook her head, “And here I thought  _ I  _ was well-connected.”

The levity didn’t last, though. Soon they were only a road’s-width away from the armed barricade of the recall camp, and June’s heart jumped into her throat. She felt her fingers tremble and her throat felt as if it were closing up. She swallowed thickly, and heard the first order of surrender from the army before her.

“Surrender now, or we will be forced to shoot!” Military trucks sudden growled to life, cutting off their escape and severing their group into two, blocking the road behind them.

Camera flashes from June’s left caught her eye; a few scattered reporters were at the metal bars of the barricade, the bright LEDs of their cameras erupting from under the lamps like fireflies. A helicopter buzzed overhead, its spotlight momentarily casting over June, blinding her for a second.

“Heat signatures detected!” She heard, another voice garbled by communications tech. “Humans are in the crowd!”

“Stand by!” The first voice that had ordered for their surrender commanded, and Markus took that cue to raise his arms, the androids in the crowd following suit.

At this, Ashante gestured with a nod to the humans, stepping forward, in front of the crowd. June followed his actions, and so did the remaining few of their group. There were only about a dozen of them now since the group was separated, but they all stretched into a chain, hands linked as they formed a human wall in front of the androids.

June jutted out her chin defiantly, keenly aware of the helicopter and reporters now, and how terribly it would paint the army to kill not only unarmed android protestors, but also innocent humans protecting them.

So the army stood by, and the humans held their ground, the androids constructing the beginnings of a barricade, a further measure of protection as the humans stood by defiantly.

The chill began to seep past June’s coat. It was going to be a long, tense night.

\---

Markus observed the environment; his people tucked safely inside the barricade, now fully fortified, the reporters and helicopter capturing everything on film for posterity, the humans linked in a chain in front of their makeshift fortification.

When he had first seen that young man dart out of the alleyway toward them, he hadn’t known whether they were under attack or acquiring a new member of their cause. But Josh had greeted the young man warmly, and explained his intentions to him. Now he had a group of humans willing to put their lives on the line for their cause. North had been less than pleased at the prospect, but Ashante had a solid point. None of them knew what they’d be walking into, and any added protection was not something Markus would turn down.

Now they all stood together outside of the recall camp, unified under the demand for android rights. No one had been gunned down, and he was thankful for Josh’s unrelenting faith in the human race.

Markus heard his name called from the front of the barricade, and he stood from his crouching position, reassuring one of their own that everything would turn out alright. He approached the head of the wall, Simon and Josh standing with him and North as he saw a lone figure standing in the road, an intercom projecting his voice over the cold night air.

“Markus,” the man called, his voice amplified, “I want to talk to you.”

“It’s a trap,” North deadpanned, skeptical of anything the humans said or did, though in this instance, she had very good reason. “They want you out in the open.”

“I’m unarmed, Markus.” The man called, “I just want to talk.”

“Don’t go,” North pleaded, her hand gripping at Markus’s sleeve. “They’ll kill you.”

Markus looked into her eyes, full of fire and fight, and fear. She was terrified of losing him, he knew. He felt everything she felt about him whenever they were connected. He knew everything he meant to her. But still, he was the leader of a cause. He had to look beyond himself. “I need to hear what he has to say,” he said, finality in his tone.

North searched Markus’s eyes, trying to find a crack in his determination. Finding none, she sighed, nodding solemnly. Markus brushed his fingers over the back of her hand, a small gesture of reassurance, before he turned away and jumped down from the elevated platform.

The humans looked at him as he walked, separating their chain for him to pass through. “Good luck,” one woman whispered, her green eyes kind and cautious. Markus gave the briefest of nods in response, and the chain reconnected after he passed through.

Markus approached the man, calm and unwavering outwardly, but he was scanning every last of iota of data in his surroundings, trying to find any indication of sabotage. There was nothing out of the ordinary, only several dozen trained soldiers standing at the ready as the snow fell around them all.

He stopped in front of the man, and they regarded each other with a sort of detached interest. A beat of silence passed, and then he spoke. “In a couple of minutes, the troops will be ordered to charge. None of you will survive, those people will be arrested. It will all be over.”

He had been expecting something like this, but hearing it out of the suited man’s mouth still felt like a bullet to the heart. Markus never lost his composure, never betrayed a single emotion in his eyes. He stood stoically against the cold November wind.

“But you can avoid that, Markus.”

“What do you mean?” He asked, finally breaking his silence, wondering what game this negotiator was playing at.

“Surrender.” The man answered simply. “Surrender, and I give you my word, your life will be spared. They’ll be detained, but none of you will be destroyed.” The man’s words rolled over Markus like a thick oil, slimy and sick. He was lying.

“What happened to the other androids demonstrating in the camps?” A sinking feeling in his gut from the way the man squared his shoulders and tilted his jaw told Markus all he had to know, but still, he answered his question.

“Unfortunately,” he began, tone indicating otherwise, “there were no journalists or overzealous activists around to help save them.” A twitch at the corner of his mouth, “You’re it. You’re the last remaining deviants.”

“I’m not afraid to die,” Markus narrowed his eyes at the man, his tone biting, “If I have to give my life for what I believe in, then I won’t have lived in vain.” There was no questioning his resolve--since the beginning, since he pulled himself out of that landfill, filled his broken body with the spare parts of his dead brethren, Markus had always put the cause above himself. Ideas don’t die, even after their originators have gone. What he had started was only the beginning. It would carry on without him, if need be.

The man took a moment to observe Markus’s steely resolve. Then he nodded his chin to the gathered souls behind the deviant. “All those lives are in your hands, Markus. All those androids, the humans, too. That one android there,” he flicked his eyes to North, who stood at the barricade, watching the exchange with a cautious stare, “you seem to really care about her. If you give up, I promise to spare her. You two can be free, start a new life somewhere. Just the two of you.”

A fire burned in Markus’s chest. “You’re asking me to betray my people?”

“I’m offering you the chance to  _ save _ your people.” The man squared his shoulders. “You’re not walking out of this. The only thing you can save now are the lives of those around you.”

Markus thought of North, of Simon, Josh, of all the androids in Jericho. Of all the ones killed by the bullet from a soldier’s gun, by the hands of their former masters. He thought of young Ashante and the humans he had brought to their cause. He knew who his tribe was.

“I would rather  _ die _ than betray my people.”

“Well,” the man shrugged, “you just signed your own death warrant.” And he turned and walked away, leaving Markus to stare after him for a moment, before turning his own back and returning to the barricade.

\---

June watched the interaction as Markus and the negotiator exchanged words. She was too far away to hear what was said, but the body language of the two men seemed to indicate that the army was not retreating, and neither were the androids.

Almost as quickly as the conversation had started, it ended, and Markus was already walking back towards them, and June released her grip on Ashante’s hand to allow for the android leader to pass through their line. He took a moment to pause between them, turning to the young man.

“If you want to leave, now is the time,” he said, and June felt adrenaline burst through her veins.

“Fuck that,” she said, her voice betraying a quiver of fear. To her right, Tonya squeezed their connected hands. The odd-eyed man turned to look to her then, and she felt the air leave her lungs at the intensity of his gaze. “We’re with you guys. No matter what.”

A beat, and then Markus gave the barest of nods, before pulling himself up and over the barricade. June grabbed Ashante’s hand again, and she swallowed thickly, meeting the young man’s eyes.

Then a heavy clinking sound hit the ground in front of them, and the whole world turned bright white.


	22. We Can't Keep Meeting Like This

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this just in: i can't count and was off by a whole chapter this entire time! this is the end, folks. thanks for a wild ride!

Her ears rang and June stumbled back, hitting the barricade behind her. Immediately, both Tonya and Ashante’s hands were torn from hers. Spots dotted her vision, and she saw a figure quickly approaching, heavy boots making no sound from beyond the muffled ringing in her ears.

She held her arms out, trying to shield herself from the soldier, but a quick jerk of his arms and the butt of his rifle slammed into her cheek and brow. June fell to the ground like she was a marionette freed from its strings.

The ground was cold, the wet snow began to seep through the knit fibers of her gloves, her fingers already freezing to begin with. “Hands in the air!” The soldier commanded, and June saw the barrel of his rifle pointed right between her eyes.

Her friends were being assaulted all around her, the pops of the guns sounded from behind, and her life hung in the hands of whether or not this soldier felt like killing her. She was hopeless.

Then he jerked his attention to the barricade above her, aiming for something overhead. An impulse ran through June’s body, and before she could even think through the myriad possible repercussions of her action, she swept her leg out, hooking her foot on the soldier’s ankle, sending him off balance and crashing to the cold ground.

An android pounced on the prone soldier and wrestled the gun from his hands. June used the opportunity to scramble to her feet, the ringing in her ears fading as she ran towards Tonya, now only fighting against one soldier.

“Let go of her!” June cried, clawing at the soldier’s arms.

“June, no!” The redhead yelled, dropped unceremoniously by the soldier as he instead grappled with the brown-haired woman, his hands gripping her wrists too tightly.

“Murderer! Fucking--” June’s accusations were cut off with a swift elbow to the jaw, dazing her and making her brain rattle in her skull. She went down again, dangling in the air by her one wrist still held captive. She fell completely to the ground when the soldier was tackled by another familiar face.

Ashante struggled against the soldier, his lanky frame hardly a match for a trained professional, but it gave June enough time to crawl over to Tonya, who had been dragging herself along the ground, trying to gain space from the conflict.

June reached her friend, struggled to her feet and grabbed hold of the woman, who looped her arms around June’s neck. The helicopter’s spotlight hovered over them, illuminating the darkness of the night with harsh, white light.

“C’mon, we gotta go, we gotta get out of here,” June lifted Tonya as much as she could, her head throbbing as she tried to get the both of them away from the flying bullets and wailing victims.

Their escape attempt was short-lived, as June felt a weight push roughly into her, sending both her and her Tonya toppling back onto the freezing pavement.

Ashante had been roughly shoved into her, and was now bleeding from a cut at his hairline. He had made the third in a strange pile of wounds and bodies. June clutched at him with one hand, the other still securely holding onto Tonya’s middle. She looked between her two friends, the fear on their faces, the bruises, blood, tears.

A soldier approached, his gun raised. June felt the cold air on her face, felt her own tears sliding down her cheeks as her heart threatened to jump out of her ribcage. This was it, this was not an idle threat.

She closed her eyes and the only image her mind could conjure was Connor.

But the bullets didn’t come.

“Stand down.” A crackly voice came through the comms on the soldier’s helmet, “President’s orders.”

June opened her eyes again and saw the soldier lower his rifle. She released a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding.

“Look,” Tonya’s voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper. She pointed to the distance, and June followed her friend’s line of sight to see an image that would be burned into her memory for the rest of her life.

There, marching down the street were hundreds, no  _ thousands _ of androids. All dressed in CyberLife white, and leading them was that damned android detective.

A smile broke out across June’s face, a breathy laugh escaping from her lungs. “Talk about the eleventh hour,” she said, her eyes never leaving the sight before her.

She finally knew which side Connor had chosen.

\---

The national guard had retreated to the outskirts of the plaza, and June was sitting with her friends at the back of an all-android crowd as Markus addressed the newly freed people. A medic had seen to their wounds, and June was preoccupied with gingerly pressing the ice pack to her once again bruised eye. Tonya was back in her chair, smile wide enough to light up the night, and Ashante watched the speech, a single butterfly bandage keeping his cut closed.

“I never thought it would be like this,” he said, and June hummed in response, her focus split from her friends around her. She kept her eyes on the detective behind Markus, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “I mean, I had always hoped--but I thought it would take a lifetime.”

The android crowd erupted into cheers, and Tonya whooped alongside them. June knew what this meant for her and Will, especially. “Fuck yeah!” Tonya yelled, her voice still hoarse, but the enthusiasm erupting out of her made up for the difference.

The deviant leaders began to climb down from their makeshift platform, and June was shifting from her spot, standing on shaky legs and pocketing her ice pack.

“Where you going?” Ashante asked, watching as she began to disappear into the crowd.

“There’s someone I gotta see,” she replied over her shoulder, and her body moved almost of its own accord as she navigated the throng.

Her target was easy to make out, a spot of dark among the bright white of the warehouse androids. He was speaking to Markus, and for a moment June stood off to the side, the crowd milling around her as she waited.

\---

Connor was still slightly reeling from what had transpired on top of that platform, how he had finally severed the last hold CyberLife had in him, how Kamski’s final message had been one meant to save him. His thoughts were swirling, for once he was unable to organize his processes, and he had to admit he was only half paying attention to Markus as the leader spoke to him.

Eventually, a lack of movement among the crowd caught his eye, and he turned to see an unlikely face smiling back at him.

Connor blinked, “June?” He asked, surprise evident in his tone. Markus turned as well, and recognized one of the humans that had joined them in protest. Connor turned fully to face the woman, confusion written clearly across his features. “What are you doing here?” He noted the fresh bruising on her eye and jaw, “What happened to you?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” she said, and she couldn’t help closing the distance between them and wrapping her arms around his frame, holding him tightly.

Connor looked down to the woman, his arms raised, unsure of what he should do. He looked to Markus, who only huffed a laugh and shrugged, turning away to join the other Jericho leaders.

After a moment, Connor lowered his arms and reciprocated the hug, feeling the warmth of her body against his own. His relationship with the woman was one of the strangest he had ever known.

June pulled away, settling her hands on his shoulders and looking into his eyes. “We have  _ got _ to stop meeting like this,” she said.

“It’s not every day one leads a freedom march,” Connor replied, and June laughed, a musical sound that made Connor’s heart begin beating faster.

“Tell you what,” June said, “How about I pencil in some time between impeding your investigation and the next android uprising to actually spend some time with you? I think we may have some interesting stories to share.”

Connor smiled, and he saw June’s heart rate spike just a little. “I think I’d like that.”

June laughed and hugged him again.

\---

Elsewhere, on the banks of the Detroit River, Elijah Kamski sat in his home, the news broadcasting the official statement of President Warren. His phone was vibrating constantly, and he smiled dangerously, sipping whisky neat.

\--- 

End of Part One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> how sweet! and ominous. 
> 
> "but gob," you cry. "when do they get together???? it's been 22 chapters and they ain't even smooched??? it's OVER" "slow burn," i cackle. "part 2," i reply.
> 
> that's right, i wrote a whole damn story with the plan to kiss the robot and couldn't get there in in 44,000 words. so there's a sequel! it's still a work in progress, but keep an eye out for Blue Blood: The As of Yet Unnamed Sequel! it should be up very soon.
> 
> you're all magical little beautiful humans and i am so grateful for all the comments and kudos. it takes a lot for me to put this creative stuff out here, in between personal life upsets, arising medical issues, and volunteer work all on top of full-time retail work. I may have been quiet in response to you all, but i'm just shy, and have read them all. let's close the book on this one, and on to the next!


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